


night time, my time

by lscar123



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Barbara Gordon is Oracle, Batman Is Dead, Damian Wayne is Robin, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, I put canon in a blender and ended up with this, Jason Todd is Red Hood, M/M, Mass shooting, Mystery, Tim isn't Robin, actually dead and not comic dead, and now there's art in 19 too thanks to khachalala!, now with added art in chapters 2 and 14 thanks to the lovely khachalala, school shooting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-07-04 22:26:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 132,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15850650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lscar123/pseuds/lscar123
Summary: Tim Drake's first day at New Gotham Preparatory Academy begins with him tripping on the stairs, and ends with his History teacher getting shot in front of him.Jason Todd was there both times.





	1. Light

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first time writing anything DC related. This fic is actually a variation of a story I've been thinking of for years, the original idea involved different characters and made everyone a teenager, but since I've recently fallen down a JayTim hole that I can't find my way out of, I've reworked the whole thing in my head and now the only thing that's the same is the shooting that takes place in the first chapter.
> 
> The fic itself deals with a few instances of mass violence, but I've tried to do it in a way where it isn't entirely too graphic. There's a ton of bad shit going on in the world and I don't want to add to it, but it's pretty central to the plot and overarching mystery of the story. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy it and I look forward to any and all comments! No beta reader, so feel free to point out any mistakes that I missed in my quick read through/edit.

 

 

 

 

One

Light

 

Tim’s eyes slowly fluttered open as the alarm on his phone blared to life. The room was dark, curtains still drawn closed like Tim had left them before going to bed. He could see the faint edges of golden sunlight creeping through the side, but it did nothing to illuminate the room itself. He stayed motionless as the alarm on his phone continued to sing, taking deep breaths as he listened to the rattling sound underneath the alarm that came from the body of the phone vibrating against the hard-oak nightstand.

A different tune started to play from the phone a few seconds later, and that’s when Tim groaned and pulled the heavy comforter from his body. He rolled over towards the nightstand, the thin sheet still covering him moving in the same direction, and ran his hand across the top of the nightstand until he found his phone. He yanked it once, twice, three times before it disconnected from the charger, and Tim shielded his eyes with his free hand as the bright screen seared his retina.

 ** _Alarm #_** _2_ flashed in thick white letters across the screen, Tim swiped his thumb over the screen to dismiss the notification and then the room fell into a blissful silence. Tim stared at his phone, tempted to cancel the several other alarms he had set and just spend the day in bed, but the calendar alert that beeped on his phone once the clock struck 7am told Tim all he needed to know.

**_First Day. First Day. First day._ **

Tim cleared that notification with a sigh as well, and then tossed his phone onto the corner of his bed as he swung his legs over the edge. His feet dangled a few inches above the floor, the height of his bed and the lack of height of his body always meant that Tim had to literally hop out of bed to bridge the distance between the bed and the floor. His feet hit the tile and he took a moment to stretch out his arms as the cold stone beneath his feet helped wake him up.

He flipped on the lights as the moved through the apartment towards the kitchen, his eyes had adjusted thanks to his phone, so he didn’t feel the need to wander around in the dark. His bedroom, the bathroom, and the hallway were all illuminated by the time he’d made it to the kitchen. He pressed one final button and the rest of the apartment bloomed to life, warm natural light soaking into the apartment as the heavy black shades lifted from the floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room with a mechanical whir. The entire front part of the apartment was bathed in sunlight, sweeping into the open kitchen from the living room.

Tim looked out at the skyline of the city, the muted morning colors made Gotham seem softer than it really was. It could trick someone who wasn’t aware, if they didn’t know that the warm yellow sky was just a soft blanket being thrown over a bigger problem. Tim had only been in Gotham City for a few weeks, but he knew what kind of city it was before he’d even packed up and moved there out of necessity.

He turned his back to the window and opened the left door of the fridge in front of him. He shivered as cool mist drifted from the fridge and hit the front of his body causing goosebumps to rise over his pale and exposed skin. He shut the door quickly after grabbing the carton of milk he was looking for, and then took a few steps to grab a bowl and a box of cereal. He filled the bowl with enough cereal to get him through to lunch time, poured in the milk, and grabbed a spoon from the drawer as he put the milk back in the fridge.

Tim stood at the island as he ate, shoveling the cereal in his mouth as he looked out the windows. Not for the first time, but it struck Tim how different his life has become in the last year or so. He’d always been an early riser, but he’d learned from a young age that his parents were not. Tim used to stumble around through the dark in the early morning hours before his parents woke, he’d memorized the layout of their old house so perfectly by the time he was five years old that he could have walked through the place completely blindfolded.

Now, looking out at his apartment with light flowing in from every source available, he felt like he was living a completely different life. He was, in a way. His mother would have chastised him endlessly for eating cereal in the middle of the kitchen wearing nothing but his underwear, his dad would be groaning about the sunlight and Tim’s sugar intake.

But there was no one here now, his mother was dead, and his dad could barely string together half a sentence before drool began rolling down the side of his mouth.

Tim sighed, which he discovered wasn’t an easy thing to do while eating. He liked parts of living alone, like the freedom and ability to do what he wanted. But there were things Tim hated about living alone, like the isolation and the almost deafening silence that normally pierced the apartment during the so late they were early and so early they were late hours of the day.

He finished off his cereal, poured the remaining milk down the drain, and quickly washed the bowl and spoon by hand before sticking it on the drying rack next to the sink. He made his way to the living room, vaulting over the back of the soft couch and reaching across the coffee table to pluck the remote. He turned on the TV and cranked the volume up as loud as he could before it would start disturbing his neighbors, and then made his way back to his room.

The TV provided enough background noise that Tim didn’t feel on edge anymore. He pulled back the doors of his closet and saw the brand new, finely pressed uniform looking back at him. The New Gotham Preparatory Academy logo was emblazoned on the front of the jacket, intricately stitched in crisp black and red thread. The white button up under the coat wasn’t remarkable, but Tim knew that just from the price of it alone that it was made out of impeccable fabric. The black pants that fit him perfectly hung draped over the second hanger, and the black and red striped tie hung off the metal neck of the same hanger.

He laid the clothes out neatly on the edge of the bed, but a voice from the TV stopped him before he could do anything else. Tim turned on his heel, quickly making his way back to the living room. The TV was playing the local news, a blonde woman sat behind the desk with a somber look on her face.

“The funeral of Bruce Wayne was held yesterday. The private event, estimated to include nearly two hundred guests, was held at Wayne Manor. Sources say that Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne’s eldest son, gave the eulogy but was unable it before he was overcome with emotion.”

Tim shook his head in disappointment, it was a private event and the only way that information could have gotten out is if someone who was included on the guest list told someone.

“Bruce Wayne, hailed by many as the son of Gotham, tragically died just days ago in an explosion in the Gotham City Financial District. Wayne escaped the initial blast, but is reported to have run back into the crumbling building to save his youngest son, Damien. Damien Wayne survived the attack, escaping the building without his father before it collapsed, and was reportedly the one who told emergency services that his father was dead. Wayne’s body was recovered by rescue workers the next day.”

Jesus.

Tim didn’t understand how the woman on TV could so casually report something like this. Sure, maybe you needed to become desensitized to stuff to read about all the terrible things that happen in the world on a daily basis, but this was something that should have hit closer to home.

“The Batman, who hasn’t been seen since the attack, is also believed to have died during the collapse of the building, multiple witnesses on the scene reported that Batman entered the building following the explosion to help with rescue efforts, but he was never seen exiting. Officials have confirmed that twenty-seven people were killed in the explosion, but there has been no answer to whether or not Batman was among the bodies recovered.”

Images flashed across the screen. Recordings from the outside gate of what Tim assumed was Wayne Manor, helicopter footage of the ruined building from the explosion, and grainy footage of Batman himself. Tim was surprised, in a good way, that there were no photos of Wayne’s children displayed. Tim had no idea what any of them looked like, and he certainly didn’t want to take in invasive photos of grieving children this early in the morning.

The reporter’s face came back on screen, she swiveled in her chair and the camera angle changed.

“In other Batman related news, Nightwing was spotted multiple times last night. Nightwing hasn’t been seen in nearly four years, and many are speculating that his return is the official confirmation that Batman is, in fact, dead.”

A photo of Nightwing filled the screen, and Tim hated that it made a part of him smile. He’d grown up idolizing Nightwing, and he hated that he got a small thrill of being in the same city as him because the only reason Nightwing was back was because someone was probably dead.

Tim closed his eyes, shaking his head to clear away whatever guilt is was feeling, and retreated back to his room. He checked the time on his phone and groaned, it was almost time for him to leave. He didn’t want to be late on his first day, Tim tried to always create a good first impression. Tim knew that a good first impression as far as teachers were concerned was more important than ever today since he was starting a new school in the middle of his Junior year, joining the school right after the end of Spring Break.

He dressed quickly, routinely smoothing down the material of his clothing to keep it wrinkle free.  He sat on the edge of his bed, pulled on the thick black socks that came with the uniform, and slipped his feet into the new dress shoes. He hated the shoes, they felt just a bit too small and the slightly raised heel on the back threw off his center of gravity just enough to make him stumble a few times when he tried to break them in by walking around the apartment.

Tim stopped by the bathroom to fix his hair, brushing it out and throwing a little product in so it would stay in place. It was longer than he usually liked it, long enough to frame the sides of his face a bit, but it wasn’t bad enough to be unmanageable. Getting a haircut had been the lowest thing on his priority list in the last few weeks, so it would have to do until he could make time for one.

He glanced around his room one final time to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything. His bag was sitting in the kitchen next to his keys, his phone and wallet were in the proper pockets of his pants, so he was ready to go. He turned off the lights as he made his way back to the front of the apartment.

Tim was once again stopped by the voice coming from the TV.

“Shocking footage was posted on social media late last night depicting the terrifying first moments of the shooting at Gotham Commerce Plaza last weekend. The footage we’re about to show you could be considered graphic, and it is not recommended for younger viewers.”

Tim’s hand hovered over the remote as the screen went black for a few seconds, he wanted to turn the TV off, but something was stopping him. A moment later, a shaky video filled the screen. The footage obviously came from something like Snapchat or Instagram, shot on a cellphone by someone who was supposed to be documenting happiness.

Two girls were in the video, smiling, laughing, and dancing along to a song that Tim didn’t recognize. It was a nice day outside, the sun reflecting off the glass windows of the stores that lined the shopping strip. The atmosphere changed within a second though, a single gunshot pierced the air and was immediately followed by the sound of screaming.

The girls on the video turned, horrified looks on their face, and started to run towards the camera as several more gunshots rang out. The only thing that could be heard now was the sound of screams alternating with gunfire.

 The video stopped abruptly after that.  

Tim let out a shaking breath, hastily grabbing for the remote to turn the TV off. He really, really, really wished he hadn’t watched that. He couldn’t believe they were showing something like that on TV this early in the morning. It was gruesome, even by Gotham City standards.

Tim clenched his fists in an effort to stop them from shaking. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, breathed out, and then opened his eyes to face the windows in front of him. He felt a little more clam, but he didn’t think the memories that were plaguing his head would go away that easily.

Another alarm went off on his phone, drawing Tim from his slight daze. He checked it, thankful that he’d set one just to tell him he needed to leave the house or he’d be late. He grabbed his bag, slung it over his shoulder, and made his way out of the apartment. He locked the door behind him, the standard lock and the two deadbolts he’d had installed after he moved in included.

He made his way down the hall and pressed the call button for the elevator. The display lit up, telling him which floor each of the three elevators were on. Th closest one was on the 18th floor, and Tim was on the 28th floor of a 30-story building. He tapped his foot as he waited for one of the elevators to reach him, thankful that he’d budgeted extra time for a situation like this.

The elevator arrived a few minutes later, and Tim stepped inside and leaned against the back wall. The elevator stopped several times on the way down, business men and women ignoring Tim as they continued their phone calls or stood stoically still. Every time the elevator stopped, Tim felt a part of himself deflate. He was never going to have time to stop for coffee now, he should have just sucked it up and made hot coffee when he woke up, but Tim loathed any and every hot beverage and just had to have his _iced_ coffee.  

The elevator finally made it to the lobby, and the gaggle of suits in front of him rushed to be the first one out. Tim bit his lip to cover a laugh and waited until they had all dispersed to exit. The lobby of the building was large, more than enough room for everyone to move around without running into each other. Tim looked up at the mirrored ceiling of the lobby, his reflection was warped from the angle.

“Mr. Drake!”

Tim looked from the mirror and across the lobby to find the source of his voice. His face split into a small smile when he saw Mr. Collins, one of the three revolving doormen of the building. Mr. Collins was his favorite, he was an older man who’d gone out of his way to make sure Tim was adjusting well to the building. Mr. Collins was probably the closest thing Tim had to a friend in Gotham right now.

“Mr. Collins,” Tim smiled as he walked over to the desk, “how are you this morning?”

“Wonderful.” Mr. Collins nodded, “Excited for your first day?”

Tim shrugged, he wasn’t excited, but he wasn’t exactly dreading it either. He just wanted to get it over with, to finish out the last year and a half of high school before he could move on to college and try to finally live his own life. One of the upsides to moving to Gotham was that New Gotham Prep would look amazing on a college application, even if he’d only attended a year and a half of classes there.

Mr. Collins checked his watch, “You better put some pep in your step, Mr. Drake.”

Tim had told Mr. Collins to call him Tim at least a hundred times in the last few weeks, but he still stuck with Mr. Drake. Tim wasn’t the Mr. Drake of the family, and the real Mr. Drake was barely holding onto that title himself.

“I got distracted by the news.” Tim admitted as he leaned against the counter.

Mr. Collins pulled a disinterested face, “I avoid the news as much as I can. Too depressing.”

Tim bit his lip as he thought about the images he’d started his morning with, “Tell me about it.”

Tim watched as Mr. Collins turned his back to him. He arched a brow in confusion for a moment, cocking his head to the side as Mr. Collins leaned down and pulled something out from under the desk. Tim didn’t realize what was happening until Mr. Collins placed a chilled plastic cup in front of him.

“Is this what I think it is?” Tim asked, all but licking his lips.

“Might be a little watered down, I stopped and got it on my way in and kept it in the fridge for you.” Mr. Collins nodded, “Figured I could try and take some pressure off of you this morning.”

Tim wrapped his hands around the ice-cold cup of coffee, groaning as he took the first sip. It tasted perfect, chilled just the way Tim liked it.

“This is amazing, Mr. Collins.” Tim said, smiling brightly, “Seriously. Thank you. So much.”

“You’re a good kid, Mr. Drake.” Collins tapped his watch, “Now don’t be late.”

Tim looked at the time on his phone and nodded. He’d gotten a few minutes of padding now that he didn’t have to stop and get coffee, he could take his time on his walk to school. He wasn’t that far away from the school, certainly not far enough to warrant taking a car. His building and the school were in one of the safest parts of Gotham, the part of the city where you’re more likely to see a million-dollar car than you are an overflowing trashcan.

He said his goodbyes to Mr. Collins, silently trying to figure out how to repay him for the kind gesture. The weather outside was warm, but not hot enough to be stifling under his uniform jacket. He made his way down the block, draining his coffee almost halfway before he’d even rounded the corner. By the time the cup was empty, Tim was standing at the front gate of New Gotham Preparatory Academy.

The iron gate in front of the school twisted towards the sky, the letters NGPA bent into them. The school itself was a multi-level brownstone situated several hundred feet back from the sidewalk. A small front yard was enclosed behind the gate of the school, and Tim could see handfuls of students milling around the front area and sitting on the steps that led up to the entrance.

He pushed open the gate and tried not to concentrate on how every single eye outside turned towards him as the iron bars groaned with his entrance.

 

X

 

Tim found his way to the central office of the school without much trouble. The layout of the school was pretty straight forward. The building itself was five stories tall, and each grade level had its own floor. Freshmen classes were located on the second floor, Sophomore on the third, Junior on the fourth, and Senior classes were on the top floor. The first floor housed various faculty offices, club meeting rooms, and the library. It was also home to the central office, the place Tim had to go to receive his student ID and class schedule.

It was located at the end of a long hallway, and according to the sign across from him, the library was located in the exact same spot on the opposite side of the building. Tim made a mental note of that, he’d read that the NGPA library was surprisingly large and well stocked.

The central office consisted of a hollow circular desk with three women rolling around inside the open space of the circle on their chairs. They bounced back and forth, answering the phone, and typing away on the computers. It was such intricate movement that it almost seemed like it was choreographed.

“Excuse me?” Tim said, trying to get someone’s attention.

One of the women stopped and looked at him, “How can I help you?”

“Hi.” Tim said, “I’m…today is my first day. I’m here to pick up my ID and class list?”

“Name?” The woman asked as she rolled away towards another computer.

“Drake.” Tim said, “No. Wait. Sorry. It’s Tim.”

She looked up at him and arched an eyebrow, “Well, which is it?”

“Both.” Tim said sheepishly, “Tim Drake. Or, maybe I’m listed under Timothy.”

“There you are!” A high voice gasped from behind him, “I’ve been waiting for you _all morning_.”

Tim startled, turning on his heel to see a girl standing behind him with her arms crossed. She was almost exactly his height, which was a bit of a blow to his self-esteem, and she was dressed in the girl’s counterpart to his uniform.

Her long blonde hair was held in place with a black headband, and her black and red striped skirt hung school-approvingly low on her hips. She wore thick black stockings, and her shoes had a slightly dangerous looking pointed heel.

“Um, hi?” Tim said, wishing he could take a step backwards.

A stack of papers landed next to Tim’s hand, and the girl in front of him snatched them up before Tim could get them himself.

“Thanks, Janet.” The girl smiled.

The woman, Janet, nodded, “He’s all your now.”

The girl tossed her hair over her shoulder, pointing a finger a Tim, “Let’s go, I’ll show you around.”

“I didn’t catch your name?” Tim asked as the made their way out of the office.

She never actually gave him a name, but Tim figured phrasing it that way was better than demanding to know just who the hell she was.

“I’m Stephanie Brow, Junior class president.” Stephanie said, grinning at Tim as they walked down the hallway, “I’m your one-woman welcome wagon.”

Tim huffed out a laugh, “Nice alliteration.”

“You don’t even know how many times I practiced that in the mirror this morning.” Stephanie groaned, “They honestly don’t even sound like words when I say them anymore.”

“Well, thank you for the welcome.” Tim said sincerely before looking over at the stack of paper in Stephanie’s hands, “Do I get to see my class schedule now?”

Stephanie looked down at the stack of paper and then back up at Tim, “I suppose.”

Tim laughed as Stephanie handed him a thin yellow sheet with his schedule printed on it. NGPA had a staggered schedule, each student had six classes in total, but each day only consisted of three classes. First period, third period, and fifth period constituted what was known as schedule A, and second, fourth, and sixth was known as schedule B. An A-Week meant that three days out of the week were spent in A-Schedule classes, and the remaining two were spent in B-Schedule classes. The reverse was true for a B-Week. The first week back from Spring Break was an A-Week, so Tim would have his A-Schedule classes Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and his B-Schedule classes on Tuesday and Thursday.

“We have three classes together, by the way.” Stephanie smiled at him, “We have third period History, fifth period Chemistry, and fourth period Math.”

Tim nodded, “I guess I’ll be seeing a lot of you then?”

“I guess so.”

Tim trailed along next to Stephanie as she showed him the layout of the first floor. It wasn’t too exciting, it was mostly two long hallways that held offices on every side. The only exception was the library, which they didn’t have time to see before first period began.

“There’s an elevator at the end of each hall, but don’t use them unless you want to look like an asshole.” Stephanie pointed towards one of the metallic sliding doors.

“OK?” Tim said, not fully understanding why.

Stephanie explained, “The elevators are unofficially reserved for the faculty members and students who can’t take the stairs. It’s not technically against the rules to take them, you certainly won’t get in trouble for it, but they’re really only big enough to fit one person inside so you’ll end up looking like a dick if you take it without needing it.”

“Noted.” Tim said, “I don’t want to do anything to stand out.”

Stephanie threw her head back and laughed, “Tim, you already stand out. Do you know how many students we’ve had that have started in the middle of the year for the three years I’ve been here?”

Tim shook his head.

“One.”

“Oh.”

Well, there went Tim’s plan to lay low. He’d just have to settle on being entirely unremarkable so people would quickly get bored of him.

“People will move on eventually,” Stephanie waved a dismissive hand, “they’ll just google you and…”

Tim stopped in his tracks as Stephanie trailed off.

Shit. He didn't want to deal with this first thing in the morning. He didn't want to deal with it at all, if it was possible.

Stephanie turned on her heel faster than Tim thought it was possible, “Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

Tim shook his head, lying, “It’s fine.”

“It’s not!” Stephanie insisted, “It’s so _not_ fine. I was being an invasive asshole.”

Tim looked at her for a second, read her body language. She didn’t seem to have meant anything by the comment, and Stephanie hardly seemed like she was the malicious type, so he was willing to let go of it just this once.

“You said it, not me.” Tim cracked a lopsided smile.

The tension in Stephanie’s shoulders melted away and she laughed, rolling her eyes at Tim. Tim took a few steps forward to fall back in line with her as Stephanie continued on with the tour. She pointed out some of the offices Tim might need to know about, but otherwise the first floor was uneventful.

The entryway to the school had become more crowded since Tim first got there. There were dozens of students now loitering around, standing off to the side in small groups and leaning against the railing of the stairs. Some students, Tim assumed they were freshmen because of their height, were making their way up the stairs towards the classrooms.

“We’re on the fourth floor,” Stephanie said, “you’ve got Johnson for first period, her class is the third door to the left right when you get off the stairs. I’m in the classroom next door so I’ll wait for you between the periods to show you to History?”

Tim nodded, “Yeah, thanks. That would be great.”

Tim doubted he’d get lost since the school was so small, but Stephanie was putting in the effort to make his first day as easy as possible, so he’d go along with it.

They made their way up the stairs, and since it was an open stairwell they could still see the first floor by the time they’d gotten to the second-floor landing. He saw the light from the street outside spill into the lobby of the school as the front doors opened, and then the entire area fell into a hushed silence.  Tim and Stephanie both stopped walking when the room quieted, all they could hear were hushed whispers and a few gasps.

“What in the world?” Stephanie looked over the railing, but the view of the doorway was blocked.

She turned, leaving Tim standing in place, and made her way back down the stairs. Tim saw the exact moment she froze; her eyes went wide, and her jaw dropped open just a fraction of an inch. Tim had no idea what was going on, but he didn’t want to leave Stephanie behind, so he made his way back down the stairs to see what she was so shocked about.

Tim didn’t really understand why everyone was staring at the group of people who’d just walked in the door. They didn’t look all that different from the rest of the people Tim had seen walking around the school. There were two kids, obviously students because of their uniforms, standing next to two adults.

The oldest man was in a black suit, the only pop of color was the bright blue tie around his neck. He was standing next to a woman in a wheelchair, his hand resting on her shoulder. She wore dark pants with a deep purple blouse, her red hair pulled back into a loose ponytail.

The two students couldn’t have been more different. One of them, the shorter of the two, was scowling at everyone who dared to look at him. Tim didn’t want those intense blue eyes directed at him, he had a feeling he could actually feel the burn if they were. His black hair was cropped short and spiked dangerously in places. His height led Tim to believe that he was a freshman, but Tim probably only had a few inches on him at best, so he couldn’t say for sure. 

The other boy though, he easily stood over six feet tall. Tim would have to look up just to see his face if they were ever that close. His backpack hung off his shoulder by a single strap, and his face was a calculated mask of disinterest. He wanted people to think he didn’t care that they were staring, but Tim saw the way his eyebrow twitched just so slightly every time a harsh whisper broke through the silence. He had hair that was just as dark as the shorter kid except for the few strands of shockingly white hair in front. It hung loosely over his forehead, and after a few seconds he reached up to push his bangs back into place.

The group began to move forward, and that released almost everyone from their spell.

“Why is everyone staring at them?” Tim asked, leaning into Stephanie’s side so he didn’t have to speak too loudly.

Stephanie blinked at him, “You’re kidding, right?”

“No?” Tim cocked his head to the side, “I’m just confused.”

Stephanie shook off the shocked look, “Tim, those three guys are Bruce Wayne’s sons. No one expected any of them to show up today.”

Tim’s eyebrows shot to his hairline, “Oh.”

“The guy in the suit is the senior History teacher, Mr. Grayson.” Stephanie said, “The woman with them is our librarian and sometimes head of IT, Ms. Gordon.”

The group stopped in front of the stairs, and Tim and Stephanie retreated back to the second-floor landing. Tim looked over his shoulder in time to see Ms. Gordon rest a hand gently on the shorter kids shoulder, but he shook it off and turned his back to her. Her face dropped into a frown, and Mr. Grayson looked at the kid before sighing and leaning down to press a quick kiss to Ms. Gordon’s lips.

“The younger one is Damian Wayne.” Stephanie said, checking to make sure he wasn’t behind her, “He’s a freshman.”

Damian. Shit. He’s the one that Bruce Wayne ran back into the building to save. Tim swallowed the lump in his throat and continued up the stairs towards the third floor.

“I can’t believe Jason is here.” Stephanie seemed to be whispering to herself.

“Jason?” Tim dared to ask.

They stopped in the middle of the stairs, and Stephanie pulled him off to the side.

“The tall one, his name is Jason Todd. He was Bruce Wayne’s second adopted son after Mr. Grayson.” Stephanie said, “He left the school last year at the beginning of Sophomore year, no one had any idea what happened to him. Mr. Grayson never said anything, and everyone just assumed that he was sent away to some boarding school for troubled kids because he was always a bit of an asshole who had the tendency to hit things first and ask questions later.”

And now he was back a day after his fathers’ funeral. Tim wouldn’t comment on if that seemed healthy or not, since it would make him a bit of a hypocrite.

Stephanie pulled her back up by the strap, “Well, congratulations Tim! You’re no longer the talk of the school.”

Tim laughed, awkwardly rubbing the back of his head. It didn’t feel like something he should be congratulated for.

The bell rang, and then the rest of the school sprang to life.

“Five-minute warning bell.” Stephanie pointed upwards and they resumed their trek up the stairs.

Tim could see the landing for the forth floor, and just before he set foot on it he felt the heel of his dress shoe slip on the smooth marble of the staircase. His momentum was thrown off, and he quickly felt his other foot slip from under him. Tim was acutely aware of the loss of gravity he was feeling, and he looked helplessly at the approaching impact. His head was angled just perfectly enough that he would probably his hit forehead on the lip of the stair, which would undoubtedly draw blood if not knock him unconscious.

Tim flailed his arms, letting out an undignified yelp as he scrambled to put some kind of buffer between himself and the stone that was about to hit his face. Tim yelled again as something grabbed him from behind, jerking him to a violent stop and leaving him suspended in mid-air. He was just close enough to the edge of the stair that the tip of his nose brushed against it when he exhaled.

He could already hear muffled laughter, and Tim could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks. It could be worse, he could be laying on the stairs bleeding rather than behind held above them blushing with embarrassment.

Tim’s first through was that Stephanie had caught him, but he looked to the left and saw her looking at him with both hands pressed over her mouth.

“Tim!” Stephanie recovered a rushed forward, “Oh my god! Are you OK?”

“I think?” Tim mumbled, keenly away that he was still being held in place.

 He looked over his shoulder and saw a hand fisted around the scruff of his uniform jacket. Tim might have gasped when that hand yanked him back upright with a single pull, but he didn’t think anyone heard him.

Tim turned to see the person who caught them, he at least owned them a thanks for saving him from a trip to the hospital, if not a full three-course celebratory meal held in their honor honor. Tim opened his mouth to thank the person, but he froze when he saw who it was.

Jason Todd was standing in front of him, and he was the one who’d caught Tim before he fell.

Tim blinked, opening and closing his mouth like an idiot. Jason raised a single eyebrow, and Tim finally pulled himself together.

“Uh, thanks.” Tim said, “For...you know.”

Jason rolled his eyes, “Watch where you’re walking.”

Jason shouldered around him, knocking into Tim slightly as he made his way up the stairs and disappeared into the sea of students heading to their classrooms.

Tim noticed that everyone on the staircase was now looking at him with curiosity rather than amusement. Stephanie walked over to him and lightly elbowed him in the side.

“Congratulations, Tim. You’re the talk of the school again!”

Tim smoothed down his button-up shirt and leaned down to pick up his bad that had fallen when he did. He safely made it to the landing of the Junior year floor and ignored the eyes of the students that were looking at him. He stopped next to the door to his classroom and turned to Stephanie.

“Why do people care?” Tim asked, “I just tripped, people trip all the time.”

Stephanie shook her head, “It’s not that. It was Jason.”

“Jason?” Tim gasped, whispering, “People are that interested because a kid whose dad just died helped someone?”

“That’s just it!” Stephanie said, “Jason _helped_ you. Jason never helps anyone.”

Tim rolled his eyes, “That has to be an over-exaggeration.”

Stephanie arched a single brow, “If it was, would everyone be looking at you like you just walked up to a lion and gave it a hug?”

There were still eyes on Tim, he hated the feeling of being watched. He ducked his head and took a step back towards the classroom.

“I’ll see you after class, I guess.” Tim shrugged.

Stephanie pulled her phone out of her bag and handed it to Tim, “Put your number in case you get lost?”

Tim doubted he’d get lost between the single door that separated his and Stephanie’s class, but he programmed himself into her contacts anyway. Stephanie took her phone back and smiled before turning and heading to her classroom. A few seconds later Tim’s own phone buzzed, he pulled it out of his pocket and saw that Stephanie had texted him her number. He quickly saved her information and pocketed his phone before walking into the classroom.

Tim made a straight line for Mrs. Johnson’s desk to introduce himself. She seemed nice enough, greeted him with a smile and told him that she was impressed with the test scores of his that she’d seen. Tim ducked his head shyly, muttering a polite thank you. She directed him to one of the open seats in class, it was in the third row and the second from the back of the class.

Tim made his way to his seat and stopped next to his desk. He froze when he saw the person who was sitting diagonally behind him.

It was Jason.

Jason wasn’t paying attention to anything around him. He had one foot tucked under himself as he leaned back, his eyes were more concentrated on the novel he was reading instead of anything that was going on around him. Tim hurried and sat in his own desk before Jason noticed him staring. He pulled out his binder, organized his pens and pencils on his desk, and patiently waited for class to start.

Someone bumped into Tim’s desk as they walked by, knocking one of the pens out of the position Tim had placed it in. It rolled across his desk, Tim wanted to leave it there, but he couldn’t ignore the twitching in his eye every time he looked at it. He sighed, picking the pen up and placing it back in the spot it had been before, using the tip of his finger to make sure everything was laying evenly.

He heard a snort of laughter from behind him, and Tim had only heard Jason speak once but it sounded suspiciously like him. Tim decided to ignore it rather than look over his shoulder.

The bell rang a moment later, everyone took their seats, and the class fell silent.

“Good morning, everyone.” Mrs. Johnson said, standing from her desk, “I hope everyone had an enjoyable Spring Break, and I hope none of your family lawyers had to work overtime because of it.”

A small wave of laughter rippled through the class.

“We are back to business as usual, which means we’ll be spending the next few weeks of class covering events post-World War II. As you may have noticed, we have two new additions to our class. I know it’s incredibly rare to have transfers to NGPA in the middle of the year, but I expect that you all will be courteous and helpful to both of them.”

Tim’s stomach clenched as he pictured one of those terrible ‘introduce yourself to the class’ type scenarios, but Mrs. Johnson continued on to a different subject almost immediately. Tim felt relieved, melting back into the chair as the tension in his body bled away.

Mrs. Johnson turned on the flat screen TV bolted to the front wall of the classroom, “We’ll jump right into class once the morning announcements are over.”

Tim didn’t quite care about the goings-on of NGPA, so he tuned out the announcements as soon as a girl with frizzy hair filled the screen. He opened his binder and began to head the page he would use to take notes, he printed the date in the top right-hand corner of the page, and then the TV drew his attention again.

Or rather, a sound from the TV drew his attention.

A loud screech blared from the speakers, like the sound of feedback from a microphone. Tim cringed, shooting his eyes up at the offending screen. The sound died a moment later, but the picture on the screen was different. The girl from before was gone, and in her place were the colored bars of an off the air screen.

Mrs. Johnson arched an eyebrow before walking over to the TV. As she was about to turn it off, the screen flickered. The picture went in and out for several seconds before it faded to a completely black screen. Tim looked around the room in confusion, noting that everyone else was just as confused as he was. Clearly this wasn’t something that usually happened.

The only person who wasn’t looking around was the kid who was in the desk directly to his left. He was in the seat directly in front of Jason, and he just stared straight ahead at the front of the room. Tim noticed Jason watching the screen with an almost frightening intensity.

“What is going on?” Tim muttered to himself.

Mrs. Johnson shook her head, “Someone really had to play a prank on the first day back from Spring Break?”

She reached for the power button again, but then the TV started playing [music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CX45pYvxDiA).

 

_bum bum bum_

_bum bum bum_

_bum bum bum_

_bum bum bum_

The tune was familiar, but Tim couldn’t place exactly where he’d heard it before. Everyone in the room looked equally as confused, but the student who was sitting in front of Jason stood with his backpack fisted in his hand.

 

_Mister Sandman bring me a dream_

_Make him the cutest that I've ever seen_

_Give him two lips like roses in clover_

_Then tell him that his lonesome nights are over_

The class was so distracted by the television that no one saw the student pull a gun out of his bag. Tim saw though, and the second the silver metal of the gun glinted under the fluorescent lights of the classroom, he froze.

Tim’s throat started to close up as the memories flooded back to him, he could feel the broken glass under his palms, smell the scent of leaking gasoline, the cock of the hammer echoed in his ears, and the gunshot was so loud he could feel it in his teeth.

The classroom erupted into screams, which was enough to sharply jerk Tim out of the haze of memories. Another gunshot went off, but it sounded further away.

Like it was in another classroom.

Holy shit.

Tim looked to the front of the class and saw Mrs. Johnson lying on the floor. 

She wasn't moving.

The song was still playing on the TV,  airy voices drifting from the speakers on a loop.

Tim snapped his head to the side, trying to find the shooter. The same student was still standing in the middle of the classroom. He was unflinching, the smoking gun still held in place while everyone scrambled around the room to get away from him.

More gunshots echoed through the building, and then the shooter in the classroom turned towards the door and the students trying to escape out of it. Tim dove for the ground, keeping his eye on the student with the gun. He saw his finger twitch on the trigger, but something slammed into him before he could pull it.

The student stumbled backwards, and it took Tim a moment to realize that it was Jason who’d hit him. The rest of the class was pressed close to the ground, some were crawling towards the door, but Jason stood directly in the middle of the isle. He didn’t flinch when the student recovered and pointed the gun at him.

Jason ducked, twisting to the side to dodge a bullet as the student pulled the trigger again. More screams came from the classroom, and Tim crawled down the isle towards the front of the room. He pulled out his cell to call 911, but the second he powered the screen on he saw the flashing words _no signal_.

What the hell was happening?

Jason lunged towards the shooter, swinging his fist upwards and connecting with the other student’s stomach. The shooter doubled over, and Jason took that as his opening to knock the gun from his hand. He brought the palm of his hand down on the shooter’s wrist and the gun fell from his hand. It discharged as it hit the ground, a bullet flying through the window and shattering the glass.

“Stay down.” Jason growled at the shooter, “Or I’ll fucking make you.”

The shooters face was completely blank. There was no emotion on it. No sadness, no fear, no anger. It was just a blank mask of indifference.

Tim pushed himself up from the ground and looked for something they could use to restrain the shooter, he almost missed the moment that the other student lunged for Jason.

Jason, surprisingly, was caught off guard. Maybe he didn’t except the shooter to react like that, but he took a closed fist to his nose. The back of the shooters shirt rode up, and Tim saw the tell-tale bulge of another pistol in his waistband. The shooter reached back and wrapped his hand around the butt of the gun, attempting to pull it out.

Tim didn’t have any time to think before he acted, he just moved as fast as he could. There were still a few desks between himself and the shooter, he would make it there faster if he went over instead of around. Tim ignored the sound of gunfire coming from elsewhere in the building as he slid overtop of the desk next to him and aimed for the shooters hand.

He kicked out with his leg, swinging it in an arc and bringing his heel down on the shooters hand just as he freed the gun from his waistband. The gun fell to the ground, and Tim tumbled off the desk and to the floor as well. He landed next to the gun and pushed it away with his elbow, knocking it as far across the room as he could.

The shooter turned away from Jason and looked down on Tim. Tim watched as he pulled his leg back and swung it forward, attempting to kick Tim in the stomach. Tim rolled to the side before the impact and caught the foot, yanking his arms forward and pulling the shooters feet out from under him. The shooter fell backwards, the back of his head hitting the ground with a sickening crack.

Tim let out a shaky breath, he’d never been more thankful for those Judo classes his father had insisted he take years ago.

Jason had recovered from his hit, he crouched next to the shooter, pressing two fingers against his neck, “You didn’t kill him.”

Tim swallowed the lump in his throat. He hadn’t realized he was worried that he might have until Jason said it.

Jason pulled his fist back, and then punched the shooter in the center of his face, "Just in case." 

Tim winced, he was pretty sure he saw the exact moment that the guys nose broke.

Another gunshot rang out through the building, this time it sounded like it came from a lower floor. Some students in the room were sobbing, others were pale white with blank faces, and everyone was looking anywhere but the body of Mrs. Johnson at the front of the room.

Jason walked over to Tim and held a hand out. Tim forgot he’d been laying on the floor, he reached up and wrapped his hand around Jason’s and let Jason pull him up from the ground.

“Is anyone else hit?” Jason asked, turning to the clusters of students in either corner of the room.

Another gunshot, more screams from inside their classroom.

No one answered, so Tim assumed that no one else had been shot. They’d gotten lucky, Tim didn’t want to think about what would have happened if Jason wasn’t in the room. He didn't know how or why Jason was able to react the way he did, but he was thankful.

Jason picked both guns up off the ground and unloaded them, tossing the clips out the window. He threw the guns to the side and pointed to the unconscious body of the shooter.

“Find something to tie him up with.” Jason walked to the door, stopping with his hand on the knob, “No one leave this room. Lock the door behind me.”

“Wait!” Tim rushed over to him, “You can’t seriously be going out there?”

“I am.” Jason said, his voice blank.

Tim blinked, “Oh hell."

Jason didn’t say anything, he just turned his back to Tim and opened the door. Tim instinctively reached out and pulled him back inside. Jason’s face was red with anger when he whirled on Tim.

“Do _not_ touch me.”

Tim took a step back, holding his hands up, but he still wasn’t going to let Jason go out there alone.

“I can’t let you go out there by yourself.” Tim said, his voice a hushed whisper.

Jason narrowed his eyes, “What? You gonna stop me?”

Jason was already curling his hands into fists.

Tim shook his head rapidly, “No. I…I’m going with you.”

Jason scoffed, rolling his eyes, “Stop wasting my time. You’re not going anywhere, I saw how you froze up when he pulled that gun.”

Tim dropped his eyes, focusing on his feet for a second before he gathered his strength.

“It was shock.” Tim hissed, “I just saved your life. You didn’t even know he had another gun, he would have shot you if it wasn’t for me.”

“You don’t know that.”

“You don’t not know that!”

Jason placed his hand in the center of Tim’s chest, splaying his fingers out wide and pushing Tim backwards, “You’re built like a baby bird, what makes you think you could do anything to help me?”

Tim ignored the heat of Jason’s hand on his chest, he pointed over his shoulder to the shooter who was now tied up with a combination of backpack straps and shoestrings.

“A fluke.” Jason said, pulling his hand away, “Stop wasting my fucking time, go sit in the corner and wait for help like the rest of them.”

“God dammit!” Tim slammed the side of his fist into the wall, “I have a black belt in Judo and I was one test away from a black belt in Aikido. I’m going with you, and the only way you’re stopping me is if you knock me out and tie me up too.”

Jason let out a frustrated breath that washed over Tim’s face, he turned his back to Tim again and opened the door.

“We’re going down to the second floor, then to the library.” Jason said in a tight, clipped voice, “I’m not carrying you if you get shot. Don’t slow me down.”

Tim stared at Jason’s back for a single second before he hurried into the hallway after him.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tend to write pretty long windily, so expect longer chapters! I hope you liked it! I'm always super nervous about my first works in a new fandom!


	2. Tactical

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> panic attack at the end fyi

 

 

 

 

Two

Tactical

 

The damn song was still playing in the hallway. It was entirely empty, save for Jason and Tim, but the song was filtering out through the school’s intercom system. Tim cringed every time the song ended, only for it to begin again in an endless loop. He hated that it was going to be stuck in his head for days now, hated that he’d associate it with memories of more violence.

“Shouldn’t we be trying to help people on this floor?” Tim asked, edging close to Jason as they approached the stairs.

Jason shook his head, “There’s not another shooter on this floor.”

“How do you know?” Tim asked.

“The other shots we’ve heard have been muffled, if they were on this floor they would have been louder.”

Jason stopped at the edge of the stairs, he leaned his head over the banister and then quickly pulled it back. He moved away from the stairs, putting a fair amount of distance in between himself and the railing. Tim crept forward to see what Jason had, and he pulled his head back almost as quickly. There was someone standing on the third-floor landing, a pistol clasped tightly in their hand.

“Shit.” Tim hissed.

Tim turned in time to see Jason pulling a phone out of his pocket, he watched as Jason’s face twisted in anger and he threw the phone on the ground. He must not have service either.

“Something happened to the phones, I don’t have service either.” Tim said.

Jason closed his eyes and took a deep breath, when he opened them he reached into his back pocket and pulled out another phone. Tim watched in confusion as he tapped the side of it and pulled out what looked like a small Bluetooth earbud. There was only one of them, he stuck it in his ear and then slid the slim black phone back into his pocket.

“It’s me.” Jason said, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

What the hell? Who was Jason talking to?

“Dickie can take care of himself,” Jason said as he pressed his finger to his ear, “I need to make it down to Damian.”

Silence.

And then Jason laughed.

“I’m not worried about something happening to Damian, I’m worried about _Damian_ happing to someone else.”

Jason’s eyes flicked up to Tim for a brief second, and then they were gone.

“No, I’m not alone.” Jason paused, “No, the new kid.”

Tim looked over his shoulder towards the stairs, and then back at Jason.

Jason rolled his eyes, “He’s built like a skeleton in a pillowcase, but he can put up a fight.”

“Hey!” Tim protested, “Who are you talking to?”

Jason held up a dismissive hand, quickly cutting his eyes to Tim, “Quiet, the adults are talking.”

“No, I’m not talking to you.” Jason said to the person in his head, “I’m not putting anyone in danger, the idiot wanted to come with me. It was either take him or punch him in the head and lock him in a closet. It’s a lose-lose situation as far as it goes with the sanctimonious bunch.”

Another pause.

“You’d never qualify as sanctimonious. I know you occasionally vibe with my morally gray side even if you won’t say it out loud.”

Tim blinked, “I’m so confused.”

“Can you get me a distraction on the third floor?” Jason asked, “Good. Give me about twenty seconds.”

Jason moved towards Tim, hooking his finger in the collar of Tim’s button up. He pulled Tim forward, and the only reason Tim didn’t yell for him to stop was because of the person with a gun right below them.

“Move when I move.” Jason whispered, pointing towards the stairs.

Tim nodded, stepping to the side so Jason could stand in front of him.

Something started hissing from the floor below. Before Tim could ask what it was, Jason took off down the stairs in a sprint. Tim quickly followed after him, tracing Jason’s path as they bounded down the steps. When Tim rounded the corner, he saw the student with the gun covered in water, the emergency sprinkler over their head pouring out buckets of water on top of them.

Jason dashed forward, his feet sliding through the water as he drove his elbow into the student’s chest. The student stumbled backwards, giving Tim just enough time to grab his wrist and twist it until he dropped the gun. The gun fell to the ground, splashing in the puddle of water, and Tim quickly kicked it across the floor and away from the other student.

Jason grabbed the student by his head, his palm almost covering the boys’ face entirely, and slammed the back of his head into the closest wall. The body went limp, and when Jason released his hold it slid down the wall and fell to the floor.

Jason cracked his knuckles as he walked down the hallway, leaning down to grab the gun and unload it. He tossed the clip into the nearby trashcan.

Jason looked up at the speaker in the hallway, glaring at it, he turned back to face Tim, “On second thought, I’m gonna shoot the shit outta this thing.”

Jason’s back was to the door closest to him, so he couldn’t see when it opened behind him. Tim did, and he instantly recognized the piece of metal that stuck out of it. He dove forward, tackling himself into Jason’s midsection, just as another student with a gun stepped out into the hallway and began firing. Tim could swear he felt the air ripple as a bullet passed right next to his face, but he was able to get them both to the ground before they were hit.

They scrambled apart as the student ran into the middle of the hallway, still firing a spray of bullets. There were two heavy bookcases on either side of the hallway, Jason rolled backwards towards one, and Tim stumbled as he scrambled to press himself behind the edge of the other.

They were directly across from each other, Tim watched as Jason pressed himself as flat against the wall as he possibly could. The gunman was concentrating his fire on Jason’s position, the wood of the bookshelf splintering more with the impact of each shot. It wouldn't stand up for much longer, and Jason was pinned down without anywhere else to go.

Tim risked edging forward to look around the corner, and when he did he saw a bronze statue perched on the highest shelf of the case he was hiding behind. It was big, heavy, a basketball at the top that tapered down into a slim column that connected to a dense circular base. Tim reached blindly for it, keeping one eye on Jason and one eye on the shooter.

The gun had to almost be out of bullets by now, so Tim grabbed for the statue and snatched it from the shelf. It scraped against the grainy wood of the book case, which drew the attention of their attacker. The gunman was already leveling his gun towards Tim, so Tim didn’t have much time to think before he reeled his arm back and threw the bronze statue at the student before he could fire.

The statue spun sideways in the air, twisting like a frisbee as it bridged the few feet between Tim and his attacker. The base of the statue hit the student directly in the center of his throat, and Tim winced when the attacker let out a pained gasp. The gun fell to the floor, spinning in a lazy circle as it landed. The student staggered backwards, both hands clasping at his throat as he gasped for air.

Jason took the moment for the opportunity that it was. He dashed out from behind his cover and ran towards their attacker, he dipped slightly as he ran and scooped up the trophy that Tim had just thrown. Jason held the trophy in his hand like a baseball bat, the heavy metal basketball at the top with his hands firmly wrapped around the middle.  

Jason swung the statue in an upward arc, it began mid-thigh level and traveled upwards with intense force before it struck their attacker right under his chin. Tim watched with horrified fascination as the student’s feet left the ground, the force of the impact sending him flying upwards a few inches before he fell back down and collapsed on the floor of the hallway.

The statue fell to the ground, and Tim took in the sight of Jason standing in the middle of the hallway. His face was hard, an almost completely blank mask that wasn’t entirely unlike the ones the students who attacked them wore. His chest was heaving, and Tim didn’t know whether it was with anger or adrenaline.

“Jason?” Tim stepped out from behind the case slowly, speaking as calmly as he possibly could given the situation.

Jason turned to him, his eyes still intensely burning. They stared at each other for a second, unflinching, until Jason’s concentration broke and he pressed a finger to the earpiece he was wearing.

“We’re good.” Jason said, “Third floor is clear. Have you contacted anyone? Police?”

Jason’s eyebrows shot up a moment later, and he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Someone is locking _you_ out of the system?” Jason asked, almost incredulously.

The blanks were starting to be filled in for Tim. Somehow, the fact that Jason had a mysterious friend who seemed to be a hacker didn’t really surprise him. Jason didn’t look like the type of guy who would be friends with prep school jocks or other rich teenagers.

Tim walked over to Jason and joined him in standing over the unconscious body of their attacker. There didn’t seem to be anything outwardly menacing about him, he looked like a regular kid in a regular school uniform. There was no way that he was an imposter, NGPA was such a small school that people would know something wasn’t right almost instantly.

That, plus the fact that they’ve now seen three gunmen in the school made things not sit entirely right with Tim. How could any of this be happening? How could multiple students, all at the same small school, deicide to go on such a rampage on the same day? Was it actually possible that they’d all become radicalized by some fucked up part of Gotham over spring break?

“Something isn’t right here.” Tim muttered, his eyes sweeping over the body of his classmate.

Jason scoffed, “No shit.”

Tim rolled his eyes, just barely controlling the urge to smack Jason in his chest, “I _mean_ , this is a small school. What is happening now is almost 100% statistically impossible under normal situations, groups of students don’t just get together and decide to wage an actual war on their classmates like this.”

“I know you’re the size of a six-year-old, but I assume you’ve heard of a thing called Columbine, right?” Jason glanced at him.

Tim scoffed, “This is _obviously_ different, Jason.”

“Hey!” Jason cried, startling Tim, “Don’t take his side on this, you’re supposed to be _my_ back up.”

Tim huffed out a laugh, he stepped closer to Jason, close enough to hear the voice in his ear speaking.

“He’s smart, Jason.”

“Whatever.” Jason glared at the wall as if it had personally offended him before he reached up and tapped the earpiece to silence it.

Jason turned to face him, pushing Tim backwards with an annoyed jab, “We’re going down. Keep your opinions to yourself, shrimp.”

Tim rolled his eyes as he followed after Jason, “You going to keep making jokes about my height?”

Jason hummed, “Come up here and do something about it if you want me to stop.”

“Twice now.” Tim said with an unimpressed voice.

“Excuse me?” Jason asked, taking off down the stairs.

“That’s twice you would be dead if it wasn’t for me.” Tim pointed out, “First the classroom, and now the hallway.”

“My hero.” Jason flicked him off over his shoulder, “How did I ever survive the last eighteen years of my life without you there to protect me?”

“Eighteen?” Tim said, unable to stop himself.

He’d assumed Json was the same age as him, and Tim had just had his 17th birthday, not that he’d celebrated or anything.

Jason kept walking, ignoring Tim. He looked over the railing and nodded. Tim stood next to him, leaning over the railing so he could see most of the hall below. It was empty, but Tim could still hear whimpered cries coming from the classrooms. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how scared some of those kids were, certainly more than Tim himself was at the moment. Tim knew he was running on adrenaline, and he couldn’t deny that having Jason along with him was keeping him from focusing on anything else.

Maybe that’s why he really wanted to go with Jason. Maybe he wasn’t entirely concerned for Jason’s safety, maybe Tim selfishly wanted to go with him because it kept his mind off the things that were lurking just outside his peripheral vision.

If that was the case, Tim knew he was going to be screwed in a few hours when he was alone with his thoughts.

That is, if he even made it home in a few hours.

They crouched down as they walked along the hallway. Tim risked looking through one of the small windows on the door closest to him and instantly regretted it. He could see the blood on the wall, and the student who’d caused it sitting at his desk, perfectly still with his gun resting in his hand.

“Last door on the right.” Jason whispered to Tim, then reached up to press his earpiece, “I don’t suppose you could let the little shit know I’m coming?”

A beat of silence, and then a sigh.

“Figures.” Jason turned to Tim, “Stay back when I open the door.”

Tim didn’t have a chance to question Jason before he darted off down the hallway. He tried to keep pace as best as he could, but his speed was limited from the position he was moving in. It was hard to move quickly and quietly, but it didn’t seem to be a problem for Jason. Jason made it to the last door on the right before Tim had even halfway caught up to him, he peered in the window, shook his head, and then slowly opened the door.

The door hadn’t even cracked open half an inch before someone threw their body outside of it, tackling themselves into Jason. Jason tumbled backwards with a pained gasp as the attacker wrapped his legs around Jason’s waist. They landed on the ground, and Tim rushed forward as fast as he could the second Jason’s head thumped against the floor.

“It’s _me_ , you little fucking demonic shithead.” Jason gasped, struggling against the person on top of him.

 

art by [khachalala](https://khachalala.tumblr.com/)

 

Tim skidded to a stop, taking in the admittedly insane sight in front of him. Jason was on his back, straddled by his brother, Damian. Damian’s eyes were wild, and upon further inspection Tim noticed the almost impossibly sharpened pencil pointed dangerously close to Jason’s carotid artery.

Damian blinked, pulling the pencil back slightly, “Todd?”

Jason pushed at Damian’s chest, “Yes! Get off of me, you psychotic Furby.”

Damian glared at him, leaning forward to press his elbow into the center of Jason’s sternum. Jason gritted his teeth, obviously in pain.

“I do not know what a Furby is, but I do not like the implication of it.” Damian whispered, “Refrain from calling me that again.”

Jason karate-chopped Damian in the crook of his elbow, weakening his hold enough for Jason to buck him off and throw him to the side. Jason pushed himself up and rubbed the back of his head, glaring down at his brother, “You’re certainly no fuckin’ Strawberry Shortcake.”

Damian pulled back his lip in a silent snarl, and Tim could see that whatever was happening had the potential to go on for a while. Tim would find it mildly entertaining under normal circumstances, but not so much when there was someone with a gun about forty feet away with only a wooden door to separate them.

“Uh, guys.” Tim said softly.

Damian’s head snapped to Tim with a terrifying speed, and Tim realized his mistake in that same instance. Jason seemed to recognize it to, he lunged for Damian and grabbed him by the arm just as he’d started to run towards Tim. Tim had had a gun pointed at him three times so far today, but Damian Wayne rushing him was somehow more terrifying.

Jason was able to stop Damian’s advance, but he wasn’t able to stop Damian before he threw his pencil/crossbow bolt at Tim’s head. Tim ducked, narrowly missing being hit in the eye by the pencil, and turned just in time to see it embed itself in the plaster of the wall behind him.

“Damian!” Jason hissed, pulling him backwards, “Cool the hell off, he’s with me.”

Damian wrenched his arm out of Jason’s grasp and looked at Tim as he narrowed his eyes. The stupid song was still playing over the speakers, but Tim could hear Damian’s footsteps on the floor as he walked towards him. Tim didn’t move, it felt like he was being approached by a predator and it was always best to let them inspect you to decide you’re not dangerous on their own.

Damian stopped in front of him, he really was just a few inches shorter than Tim himself. He raked his eyes up and down Tim once, and then made a clicking sound with his tongue before turning on his heel and walking away from Tim.

He exposed his back, which meant that Damian didn’t think he was a threat.

“You kill anyone?” Jason asked, a little too causally for Tim’s liking.

What the hell was up with the Wayne family? Everyone dealt with grief in their own way, but this might be a little on the excessive side.

Damian rolled his eyes, “Regardless of what you may think of me, Todd, I would not kill one of my classmates, especially since it is rather obvious that they are not in their right minds.”

Tim felt a sense of vindication wash over him, he walked towards the two brothers.

“You see it too?” Tim asked, “Something’s off with them, it’s like they’re focused on nothing but killing.”

Damian turned to face him, a single eyebrow arched, “I just saw a boy I’ve known for over a year kill two people in cold blood before I could stop him. The same boy spent twenty minutes crying three months ago when a bird flew into the classroom window and died. Yes, there is something very off.”

Tim swallowed, he’d just noticed the red splatters on Damian’s crisp white shirt. He didn’t know how he was holding it together, all things considered.

Jason groaned, stretching his arms above his head, “That’s three for three with the brainiacs then.”

“What?” Damian asked.

“Tim, you, and the voices in my head.” Jason pointed to Tim, Damian, and then the earpiece.

Damian’s eyes narrowed, he walked to Jason’s side and then jumped upwards, quickly snatching the earpiece from Jason’s ear. Damian ignored Jason’s surprised curse and pressed the device into his own ear.

“This is Damian.” Damian paused, “Where is Grayson?”

Tim watched as Damian paced, his arms clasped behind his back. What was with the kid and his knack for only referring to his brothers by their last names?

“Yes, leave it to Grayson to refuse to leave a group of nearly adults when it’s obvious that there is no danger on his floor. As usual, Todd and I will have to be the ones to get our hands dirty.”

A pause.

“I am not going to kill them.”

Tim suddenly felt like he’d been transported to an alternate universe.

Damian pulled the device from his ear, “She would like to speak to you.”

“Yo, you get the police yet?” Jason asked, “Nah, leave Dickie up there. Me, the shit spawn, and the sea monkey can take care of it.”

Tim sighed, he didn’t even know which of those he was supposed to be.

Jason’s eyes cut to Tim, “I’m not gonna get him killed, he makes too good of a distraction. Yes, I’m being careful. No, he’s not _that_ smart.”

Jason tapped the earpiece, he looked at Damian, “There’s a guy guarding the front door of the school, gun for hire and not a student. She thinks he’s the one with the signal blocker, can’t get to him to hack it remotely so it’s up to us.”

Damian nodded, then looked at Tim, “Shall we lock him in a closet?”

“Excuse me?” Tim stared at them.

Jason huffed out a laugh, “Nah, he’ll come in handy.”

“I’m standing right here.” Tim said, glaring at both of them.

“I am aware.” Damian said dismissively.

They silently made their way back down the hallway. Damian ran the last few feet, swiftly vaulting himself up on the banister of the stairway. He was perched on it in what should have been a precarious position, both his feet halfway hanging off the edge of the slim railing.

Jason saw Tim staring, “Bruce found him at a circus.”

“That was the first illegitimate heir.” Damian scoffed, “Footsteps down below.”

Jason leaned over the railing, turning his head to the side. He closed his eyes in concentration for a few more seconds, then opened them and pulled Damian down from his perch.

“A patrol route.” Jason said, “He’s walking the halls down there.”

“This is insane.” Tim said, dragging a hand through his hair, “This entire thing is insane. Why are we doing this? The cops should be here by now, someone had to have heard the gunshots.”

“We’re in Gotham, happy meal. Gunshots are a dime a dozen.”

Tim took a deep breath in an attempt to stop the stress and anxiety he felt trying to spread through his body. He focused the negative feelings on Jason, if Jason called him something other than his name one more time then Tim was going to throttle him.

Damian tipped his head to the side, “They’re doing construction down the street. A full building is being demolished today, the walls of the school are insulated to keep out the sounds of the city outside, the same works in reverse. No one is hearing gunshots unless they’re standing right outside our door.”

“The fire alarm!” Tim suddenly released, “We didn’t even try to pull it.”

“The teacher did, before he was shot…” Damian trailed off, “Nothing happened.”

“Alarms, cell phones, and internet access.” Jason hummed, “They’re smart.”

“Who is they?” Tim asked, “Who’s doing this?”

Jason and Damian exchanged a look, a silent conversation.

“NGPA is filled with the children of some of the richest people in Gotham.”

Something wasn’t sitting right with Tim. He didn’t buy that explanation, if someone wanted to hold the student body for ransom there were far different ways they could go about it. Jason didn’t buy Damian’s story either, Tim caught him rolling his eyes when he thought no one was looking.

Tim didn’t understand much of what was happening, but he knew there was something going on that he wasn’t aware of. He didn’t have all the pieces of the puzzle, but that had never stopped Tim before.

He had to make it out alive to solve this particular one though, and to do that he needed to rely on both Jason and Damian.

Jason and Damian, two boys who’d put their father to rest not 24 hours earlier. Jason and Damian, two boys who fought with more grace and power than any of Tim’s martial arts instructors. Jason and Damian, two boys who talked to a random woman on a headset.

“Let’s go, Ewok.” Jason threw a look over his shoulder, grinning at Tim.

OK.

Even Tim couldn’t be mad at that one.

“I have no problem being the unsung hero of the entire Star Wars franchise.”

“Disgusting.” Damian mumbled, just loud enough for both Tim and Jason to hear.

“Footsteps are coming back.” Jason said, he turned to Damian, “You draw his attention.”

“I do not take orders from you, Todd.”

Jason sighed, raking a hand through his hair, “You’re smaller, faster, and all around better than I am. Will you please draw his attention, Damian?”

Damian nodded, “Yes.”

Jason turned to Tim, “You stay here.”

“What?” Tim blinked, “No?”

“That guy down there is the real deal, he’s not some zonked out teenager. You’ll get hurt.”

“The closet is still available.” Damian leaned against the wall with his arms crossed.

“You’re backup, OK?” Jason said, obviously placating him, “You can spring in and save us if we’re getting our shit kicked.”

“I really fail to see what qualifies you two to charge headfirst into danger, but I’m supposed to sit on the sidelines.” Tim was frustrated, and that frustration was quickly growing into anger.

He took a deep breath, he had a feeble control on his temper at the best of times, and now he was just itching to pull the pin on the grenade that was his attitude problem.

“Bruce is-” Jason stopped abruptly, cutting his eyes towards Damian, “ _was_ a paranoid son of a bitch. I mastered three different martial arts styles in the first two years after Bruce adopted me, and Damian learned how to disarm and incapacitate an intruder before he knew his ABCs. You don’t grow up in the Wayne household without learning how to protect yourself. And protect others.”

Jason was protecting him? That was almost laughable.

“Todd,” Damian hissed, “he is on his way back.”

Jason nodded, looking away from Tim, “Go for it.”

Damian didn’t hesitate before he pushed himself away from the wall, ran the few feet to the banister of the stairs, and vaulted over it like he was a track star. Tim heard the soft thump of his feet hitting the tile below, followed by a startled shout and a crash.

“That’s my que.” Jason took off, bounding down the steps three at a time.

Tim sighed, leaning against the railing and listening to the sounds of the fight below.

“Motherfuck!”

Jason.

“The hamstring is accessible.”

Damian.

“Not the eyes!”

Jason.

“He cannot fight if he cannot see.”

Damian.

Tim could see their shadows dancing against the floor. There was the wider one of the brute they were fight, the small, agile one of Damian, and the tall, lean, lethal looking one of Jason. He watched as the shadows danced across the wall and the floor. Jason’s shadow rolled to the side, quickly pushing itself to its feet before running forward.

It reminded Tim of Peter Pan. A more far more violent and vulgar Peter Pan, but Peter Pan none the less.

And that’s when Tim saw them. The addition of three more shadows.

The sound though, the sound was when Tim knew that something terrible was about to happen.

Dull thumps, hollow and tinny sounding, chilled Tim to the bone.

Tim’s grip on the railing was white knuckled, and Damian’s furious shout from the floor below was the only thing that drew Tim from the beginning of a paralyzing memory.

Three more dull thumps followed by holes blooming in the wood of the front door.

Contrary to what movies and television shows would have you think, a silenced gun was not actually silent. A pistol especially gave off a wholly unique sound, one that Tim would remember for the rest of his life.

“Ah, shit.” Jason growled, “Seriously?”

Tim took a deep breath, using the sound of Jason’s frustrated voice to ground himself. He unclenched his hands from the railing and ran down the stairs.

Time for the Ewok to save Endor.

Tim dove, sliding across the tile floor just as another set of silenced gunfire thumped above him. The NGPA uniform provided little in the way of traction, and the impeccably polished floor of the academy let Tim slide halfway across it before he came to a stop.

He looked up at the fight in front of him.

Damian was tangling with the guard, a man who was easily four times his size. Jason was right about Damian’s speed though, he darted in for a blow against the guy and then danced back away before a heavy hand could even come close to him.

More concerning though was the fact that the three women from the reception room that Tim had met earlier were now standing at the opposite end of the hallway, each of them seeming to have traded in their rolling chairs for silenced pistols. Jason was moving towards them, ducking in and out of cover as they fired.

Damian finally caught a blow from his opponent, Tim saw the exact moment the fist collided with the side of Damian’s head. Damian’s feet were knocked out from under him, he went sprawling sideways and slammed into the wall. Damian was struggling to get up, and Tim didn’t like the look on the face of the man looming over him.

He tried for the door, shaving it violently to try and open it. It rattled, chained from the other side.

“Dammit!” Tim slammed his fist against the door.

“Damian!” Jason yelled, Tim turned in time to see the man kick Damian in the stomach.

Jason had a woman in a headlock. It was the same woman who’d given him his enrollment papers, Janet. Both of his arms were wrapped around her neck, slowly trying to cut off the air to her brain so she’d pass out. Both of Jason’s biceps covered her ears, and Tim noticed the way that Janet’s eyes went wide, not with impending unconsciousness, but with confusion.

The blank mask slipped from Janet’s face, and in its place was the expression of a woman who didn’t know where she was or why she had a gun in her hand. Something had changed, it wasn’t a blow to the head because Tim and Jason had done plenty of that so far to their other assailants and it changed nothing.

Tim looked at Jason again, and then it all made sense.

“Her ears…” Tim whispered.

Jason was covering her ears and that meant that she couldn’t hear the song that was still being pumped through the speakers on an endless loop. The same song that had started playing from the TV just before his classroom erupted into violence.

He knew how to fix this, but first he needed to help Damian.

Damian was on the ground, struggling with his arms wrapped around his attackers’ foot. Tim could tell that Damian was trying to pull a version of the move he himself had used earlier, but Damian didn’t have enough leverage to unseat a man so much bigger than he was. Tim made his decision in a split second, he ran towards Damian’s attacker and threw himself on the back of the man.

He scrambled up the taller man, using his rumbled clothes as handholds. He snaked an arm around the attackers’ neck, if only so he could have a better grip to avoid being thrown off. Tim balled the hand of his free arm into a closed fist, and then he slammed it into the brutes’ eye.

Tim repeated the action twice, each time the man howled with more pain. It gave Damian enough time to recover, and Damian ran forward, running up the man bu using his own thigh as a foothold, and drove an open palm strike into the center of his throat. He let out a gasp of air and staggered backwards, Tim only had a few seconds to dislodge himself before he was crushed under his weight.

When Tim had both his feet on the ground again, Damian looked at him with a smug glare, “See? I was right about the eye, Todd.”

“That’s nice.” Jason said through gritted teeth, “A little help here?”

Tim and Damian turned to see Jason pinned to the wall by the final two receptionists. It was obvious Jason had been holding back on them, and it was obvious that Jason still didn’t want to hurt them. Damian, on the other hand, didn’t seem to share any of Jason’s reservations if the way he leapt into the air and delivered a flying kick to the ribs of the woman closest to Jason.

The single woman left attacking Jason drew her gun back, holding it behind her head for a moment before swinging it forward and hitting Jason across the face with the muzzle. Jason staggered into the wall, knocking his head against the stone before sinking slowly to the ground. Jason’s head tipped to the side, and Tim saw the almost incandescent earpiece slip out of it and roll onto the floor.

The receptionist was reloading her gun, though Tim had no earthly idea where she’d gotten a second set of bullets from. Jason was still dazed; his eyes were cloudy and unfocused as he blinked at the woman above him. Damian was still tangling with the second woman in the back, trying desperately to pull the gun from her grasp.

Tim eyed the earpiece on the ground, he could see the faint light of it even against the gleaming tile. He ran forward, sliding across the floor in the same way that he’d done moments before. His body moved effortlessly, almost liquidly, and he plucked the earpiece from the ground before he’d even stopped moving.

Tim shoved the earpiece into his ear, “I don’t know who you are, but if you’re one of Jason’s hacker friends than you need to kill the intercoms to the building right now.”

A pause, and after a second too long.

“Who is this?” An artificially mechanic voice asked, “Where’s Jason?”

“About to be shot!” Tim yelled, “The music, it’s…controlling them. Or, I don’t think that’s the right word. They were fine, then they heard the music, and when they stop hearing the music it clears their heads. It’s a-”

The mechanical voice cut him off, “A post-hypnotic suggestion. Dammit, I should have figured that out myself.”

The line went silent.

Tim looked down to the end of the hall. Jason was slowly pushing himself back up, but the woman had finished loading her gun. She popped the clip into place, pulled back the top of the pistol to set the bullet in place, and then pointed her gun at Jason.

Tim was too far away. He’d never make it. He was powerless to do anything. It was just like last time. Powerless to stop someone from getting hurt. If he was stronger, or faster, maybe he could make it. But Jason would be dead before Tim even got to his feet.

He closed his eyes shut tightly. He couldn’t watch it happen, not again. He held his breath and waited for the thump of the suppressed pistol.

The sound never came.

 Tim slowly opened his eyes.

The hallway was completely silent. The music was gone.

“You did it.” Tim whispered, “They’re safe.”

“Good. The police are on their way, ETA five minutes.” The mechanical voice said, “That was a good catch. What’s your name?”

Tim pushed himself up from the ground, cringing at the lance of pain that shot through his knee as he stood, “Tim.”

A quiet, less mechanical hum, “Thank you, Tim.”

“For what?” Tim asked.

“For protecting them.”

The line clicked dead, the earpiece let out a sharp sound, almost a shriek, and Tim quickly ripped it out of his ear. He tossed it on the ground, as far away from himself as he could. He could have sworn he saw a small puff of smoke come from it afterwards.

Both receptionists were looking down at the guns in their hands in shock, swaths of pure horror painted on their face.

Now that the excitement was over, Tim could feel the actions of the last half hour weighing on him. The adrenaline was quickly burning out of his body, and he could already feel the bruises from every blow he’d taken starting to form.  He looked up and locked eyes with Jason, Jason was watching him with an almost frightening intensity.

Tim tried to smile at him, but he might have looked more than a little manic if the expression on Jason’s face was anything to go by. Tim just settled for a shrug, and then a polite nod. Unspoken words that said it was kind of cool to spend the first day we met beating up people who were trying to kill us.

Jason nodded back, but his expression quickly morphed into something terrible. Jason’s eyes went wide, he looked terrified. Tim barely had time to react when he felt a presence behind him, when he felt a large hand grasp the back of his skull, fingers digging into his hair and threatening to rip it out by the root if he so much as moved.

The hand on the back of his head tightened.

“Tim!”

 Jason’s voice, the one screaming his name, was the last thing Tim heard before his world went black.

 

X

 

The first thing Tim saw when he awoke was a white light.

He blinked, cringing as the white light moved back and forth in front of him. The light abruptly disappeared, and in its place was a small woman holding a flashlight in her hand. The world came back slowly after that, Tim could hear the sounds of voices coming from nearby. He looked down and realized he was on a gurney, looked around and realized he was in the back of an ambulance.

Tim groaned, rubbing the back of his head, and then wincing in pain, “What happened?”

“You’re at school,” the paramedic said, “there was an incident and you were injured.”

“I know,” Tim said, “why do I feel like I just got run over?”

“You have a minor head injury, you don’t have a concussion but you’re going to be feeling it for at least a few days.” The paramedic said, lightly pushing him back to lay on the gurney, “We’re moving you to Gotham General right now, they’ll run some more tests once you’re there to rule out any long-term damage.”

Tim held up his hands, waving them in front of his face to check for any signs of motion blur. He’d had a lot of experience with head trauma lately, he knew the signs he needed to check for. He could recite multiplication tables all the way up to twelve, could list every sitting US president in his head, and he could still remember which movie won best picture at the Oscar’s the year he was born.

Tim knew he was fine, and he certainly wasn’t going to be taken to the hospital.

“I’m fine.” Tim said, pushing himself up from the gurney, “I don’t need to be taken to the hospital.”

“Sir, you’ve had a head injury, we have to take you.” The paramedic insisted.

Tim waved her away, “I’m fine. I’m declining medical treatment.”

“You’re a minor.” She pointed out, “We have to take you to the hospital.”

Tim let out a bitter laugh, “Emancipated, actually.”

The paramedic leaned back in surprise.

Tim stood from the gurney, ducking so he wouldn’t hit his head on the roof of the ambulance. He lowered himself to the ground slowly, taking a deep breath and squeezing his eyes shut as the world around him swayed sideways.

“I have to insist you see a doctor.” The paramedic said, lightly grabbing his shoulder.

Tim shook her off, “I know what warning signs to look out for, if I experience them then I’ll go to the hospital. Thank you for your help. Goodbye.”

They were still outside the front of the school. That was good, it meant that Tim didn’t have far to talk to get home. There were police everywhere, flashing lights washing over the sides of the building. Tim knew he should probably seek an officer out, there were no doubt going to be questions about why he and a few other students decided to go Rambo to save the school, but the only thing Tim wanted to do was crawl into bed and die.

That, and find Jason Todd.

He looked around, ignoring the way his head protested as he twisted it, but couldn’t find any sign of Jason, or the rest of the Wayne family for that matter. There were a few students he recognized by their face, but no one he would feel comfortable with enough to walk up and ask them a question.

“Tim! Oh my god!”

Tim turned to see Stephanie running towards him. She stopped just outside of arms reach. Tim could see a bruise forming just below her right eye, and a few of her knuckles on her right hand were split.

“Stephine…” Tim trailed off, “you’re OK?”

Stephanie shrugged, “Nothing I couldn’t handle. I’m so glad you’re OK though, I’ve heard some really crazy things.”

“Apparently I just woke up.” Tim rubbed the back of his neck and groaned, “What did I miss? The last thing I remember is being downstairs with Jason and Damian, and then I woke up in the back of an ambulance.”

Stephanie looked over her shoulder, then she wrapped her arm around the crook of Tim’s elbow and pulled him further down the street.

“I didn’t see it myself,” Stephanie prefaced, “but apparently some guy tried to break your neck, so Jason broke his.”

“What?” Tim gasped, “Stephanie, what the hell?”

“There was this big guy I guess; the police are saying he’s the one responsible for everything.” Stephanie shrugged, “he locked the doors of the school and you and Jason got into a fight with him, I overheard Jason talking to the cops about it.”

Tim blinked, “What did he say?”

“He told them you guys were trying to find a way to call the police since the cell service was cut out, and that some guy attacked you, grabbed you by the head, and tried to snap your neck.”

Tim had a…vague recollection of the brute that Damian was fighting. But the last thing Tim remembered was the guy being taken down by himself and Damian, Tim thought they were in the clear once that fucking song stopped playing all through the school.

“They carted the guy out of here on a stretcher, said Jason did some major damage to him trying to save you.” Stephanie shook his head, “They’re already calling it self-defense, I guess there’s a chance the guy might not survive and if he does they don't think he'll ever walk again.”

“Jesus.” Tim whispered, “Where is Jason?”

“He went home. A car took him, his brothers, and Ms. Gordon once the police cleared them to go.” Stephanie said, “The Commissioner himself was here waiting with them.”  

Cool. Jason didn’t even bother to see if Tim was alive before he left.

“Also…” Stephanie trialed off, “I guess Jason carried you out of the school.”

“What?” Tim yelled, immediately regretting the way it made his head throb.

Stephanie laughed awkwardly, “Yeah, full on princess style carried you out and to the closest paramedic.”

“I need to go home.” Tim said abruptly.

This was too much. He still didn’t understand what the hell had happened today, didn’t understand Jason, his brother, or anything that was being said. Maybe it was the head injury, maybe it was the absolute absurdity of the whole thing, but Tim was tried of trying to put together a puzzle with pieces that didn’t fit.

“I’m sure you’re tired.” Stephanie smiled softly, “I can walk with you? You probably shouldn’t be alone right now.”

Tim shook his head, “It’s fine, I live in Whiteside Towers, it’s not that far from here.”

Tim could manage the few blocks between the school and his apartment.

Probably.

“Really?” Stephanie cocked her head to the side, “I can totally go with you then-”

Tim cut her off, “Steph, I kind of just want to be alone right now.”

Stephanie’s face fell, “Oh. Yeah. Sure. I’ll text you later to make sure you made it home then.”

“Sure.” Tim said, “Thanks for everything today.”

“Hell of a first day, huh?” Stephanie smiled sadly.

Tim nodded, and then turned to walk back to his apartment. He moved on autopilot, just paying enough attention to see traffic signals. Tim didn’t want to make it through whatever happened at school only to be killed by a rogue taxi cab. He looked down at his hands as he waited for the signal in front of him to turn green, and he noticed them shaking. He balled them into fists, took a deep breath, and willed himself to make it home before he fully started to freak out.

His adrenaline had clearly run out while he was unconscious, and the events of the morning were finally catching up with him. He winced as someone on the street next to them slammed a car door, it sounded uncomfortably close to gunfire.

“Go!” Someone behind him yelled.

Tim started, looking up to see that the crosswalk had opened. He mumbled an apology and dashed across the street, rounding the corner and bringing his building into view.

Close.

Only another minute or two until he was inside, another minute for the elevator ride, and then he would be free to have whatever breakdown his body was planning when he was in the privacy of his own home.

The sliding doors of the lobby opened, and Tim immediately came face to face with Mr. Collins.

“Mr. Drake!” Collins gasped, rushing towards him, “I’d heard the news, we were so worried about you.”

Collins was good. Collins was safe. Tim trusted the man, enough to let some of his guard down at least. He stumbled to the desk, tripping over his own feet as he went. He caught himself on the edge, just barely saving himself from collapsing to the ground. He was vaguely aware of Mr. Collins talking, he could make out the soothing tone of his voice even if he couldn’t understand the words.

Tim closed his eyes, but the darkness behind them was quickly replaced with visions of his teacher lying on the floor surrounded by blood, and then his teacher slowly morphed into the body of his mother.

“Can’t…breathe.” Tim gasped, struggling for air.

He looked up to see Mr. Collins waving someone over, and for a second Tim was worried that he was going to have his second trip to an ambulance of the day, but then Mr. Collins was wrapping an arm around him and helping him stand. Tim didn’t know what was happening, but he trusted Collins enough to go with him. Mr. Collins reminded him of his grandfather, and Tim’s grandfather was really the last adult that Tim had truly cared about.

“It’s OK, Mr. Drake.” Collin’s voice was soft, soothing, “We’re taking the employee elevator up, we’ll have you home soon.”

“Home.” Tim rasped, “Apartment. Please.”

“Do you have your keys?” Mr. Collins asked.

Tim nodded jerkily, holding up his bag, “Front pocket.”

Mr. Collins took the bag, unzipping the front pocket and pulled out Tim’s keyring. Tim leaned back against the elevator, shrugging off his uniform jacket. The cotton button up was drenched in sweat and water from the emergency sprinkler, and Tim felt a chill run up his spine when he pressed his back against the cold metal of the elevator. It grounded him, a sort of shock to his system.

He tracked the slow movement of the elevator, watched the way the numbers crawled up as they moved higher and higher. He could finally start to breathe without struggling by the time they hit the 20th floor, and by the time they passed the 25th he was more or less recovered.

“Mr. Drake?” Collins asked as the elevator dinged, opening out into the hallway.

Tim noted that the employee elevator let out in a different spot than the tenant elevator.

“I’m good.” Tim said, “I think.”

Mr. Collins nodded, watching him intently, “Can you walk on your own?”

Tim thought so, he took a step forward to test his theory. Then another and another until he was out in the hallway proper.

“Yes.” Tim ran a hand through his hair, cringing when he found it damp with sweat, “Thank you. I’m so sorry.”

Mr. Collins shook his head, “Don’t apologize, Mr. Drake.”

Tim shook his head, “No. It’s not your job to babysit me, I’m so sorry I’ve bothered you with this.”

“Nonsense.” Mr. Collins shook his head, “Let’s get you to your apartment.”

Tim swallowed, nodded, and walked alongside Mr. Collins until they were in front of his door. Mr. Collins slid the key into the lock, turning it and pushing the door to open it. The door didn’t move, and Mr. Collins looked at it with a puzzled face.

Tim huffed out a dry laugh, taking the keys from Mr. Collins and using a second one to unlock the two deadbolts Tim had specially installed the day he moved in. Mr. Collins looked at him, frowning slightly, but Tim shook his head.

“You can never be too careful in Gotham.”

“Do you need help inside?” Mr. Collins asked.

Tim shook his head, “No. I’ve got it from here. You’ve done more than enough for me today, Mr. Collins. I owe you.”

“Don’t think about it.” Mr. Collins smiled, “That’s what I’m here for.”

“You’re here to escort traumatized teenagers to them apartment?” Tim asked darkly.

Mr. Collins laughed, “Mr. Drake, I’ve worked in this building for twenty-five years, you don’t know the kinds of people I’ve had to escort up to their apartments.”

If Tim was in a better state he’d ask Mr. Collins to tell him some of those stories, but he felt like he could barely stand anymore. He opened the door to the apartment and stepped inside.

Mr. Collins gave him one last look, “I work until 8pm tonight, Mr. Drake. Please don’t hesitate to call down if you need anything.”

“I will.” Tim lied, “I’m going to sleep for the next fifteen hours though.”

Mr. Collins nodded, “Be safe, Mr. Drake.”

“You too, Mr. Collins.” Tim nodded back.

He closed the door, locking all three of the locks, and then turned back to face his apartment.

It was pitch black. Tim forgot that he’d closed the shades on his way out, and there wasn’t a single light on in the apartment. It seemed like too much effort to go around turning them on, so he stumbled his way through the darkness, knocking his knee into a side table as he went, and made it to his bedroom.

The lights were out in there, but Tim could see the outline of his bed. It was the only place he wanted to be. He shrugged off his clothes, unable to even muster the strength to shower, and fell onto his bed.

Tim curled into a ball, wrapping his arms around his legs, and laid there with his eyes opened. He didn’t want to close them, terrified of what he might see when he did. Instead, he thought of Jason. And the more he thought of Jason, the more pissed off he became.

Jason hadn’t even stuck around to see if he was alright. Then again, why would Tim have expected that? Jason hadn’t even wanted Tim to come along on his one-man suicide mission anyway. He’d spent the entire time mocking Tim, downplaying it every time Tim helped him. And then he’d just left after delivering Tim to the paramedics. Tim could have died after he’d handed him over, and Jason would never even have known.

Tim groaned, rolling over onto his back. Why the hell was he even thinking about Jason? He’d never met the guy before today, so why would Jason really give a shit about him?

Tim grabbed his pillow and shoved his face into it. He didn’t want to think about Jason, didn’t want to think about the school, didn’t want to think about his mother, didn’t want to think about how he was living in a gigantic apartment in a huge city all alone.

Tim sighed, he stretched out in bed and pulled the weighted blanket over his shivering body. He looked up at the ceiling of his bedroom and waited for the darkness of the apartment to consume him.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> damian wayne, murder hampster and comic relief is not something i thought i'd ever enjoy writing.


	3. Hood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> very minor threat of non-con in this chapter (enough so that I wouldn't even tag it as such but it's better to be safe than sorry)

 

 

 

 

Three

Hood

 

Tim woke with a scream.

The sound was ragged, desperate. Like something evil crawled inside of him while he was sleeping, and now it was trying to force its way back out of him. Tim couldn’t stop, couldn’t move as the sound escaped his mouth. He felt his throat going rawer by the second, heard the way his vocal chords protested by the time the scream tapered off.

The scream echoed through the empty hallways of his apartment, and if he was anything but a normal human boy he was pretty sure it would have shattered a few windows on its way out.

“Christ.” Tim murmured, to no one by himself.

He hadn’t woken up like that in weeks. He’d been suspiciously nightmare free since arriving in Gotham, or rather, night _terror_ free. Nightmares were normal, seeing both your parents shot in front of you would see to that. But the night terrors? The night terrors that made Tim feel like he was the person who murdered his mother, that made Tim think that his mother was back, only for her to sink her teeth into his flesh and then suck his brain out through his ruined eye socket.

Night terrors sucked.

_“Make a choice.”_

The voice lingered in Tim’s ears, the whisper was so loud even another scream couldn’t drown it out.

Tim pushed himself out of the bed, wincing at the way the thin sheets clung to his sweat covered body. The shades in his room were still closed, and no golden light peeking in from the edges meant it was dark outside. He leaned down and turned on his bedside lamp, wincing when then light burned his eyes. When he looked down, was still in the underwear he’d put on this morning. Tim pressed the screen of his phone, blinking in confusion when he saw that it was nearly 3am.

He’d gotten back to his apartment a little bit after 11am, and the only thing Tim remembered was going directly to his bed and falling asleep. Which meant that Tim had been sleeping for the last sixteen hours.

Tim groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. He felt the type of bone deep soreness that could only come from sleeping for so long, the kind of ache you get when your body temporarily forgets how to move itself.

He looked down at his body and frowned. Purple bruises stood out against his pale skin. He could make out the marks of a few fists, and the perfect imprint of a dress shoe on his rib. He looked down at his knuckles and winced in sympathy for himself, the few that were split open were already starting to scab over, but it still wasn’t a pretty look.

The almost clinical look of his bathroom was a welcome sight when he clicked the light on. White walls, white tile, white appliances. The room looked like a fully sterilized laboratory, and it was just how Tim liked it. His face didn’t look any better than the rest of his body. There was a cut on his cheek, a nasty bruise on his temple, and an angry red ring around his neck. Tim didn’t know where half of the marks came from, and he didn’t want to invest the time in trying to figure it out.

He let his eyes roam the expanse of his chest. He only spared the three raised scars on his shoulder a single look before he tore them away.

There was dried blood on Tim’s hands, on his face, his neck, and his forearms. Tim wasn’t dumb enough to think it was all his, which meant he’d slept in his bed with other people’s blood on him. He was going to have to buy an entirely new set of bedding now, no amount of sterilization would be able to let Tim sleep comfortably in his sheets again.

Steam rapidly filled the bathroom as Tim turned the shower to the hottest setting. The clear shower door fogged up almost instantly, and Tim ran to the bedroom to grab his phone to connect it to the Bluetooth sound system that was wired to each room in the apartment. He set it to randomly cycle through a classical playlist while he scrubbed the events of previous day from his skin.

A symphony from Brahms pumped through the apartment, streaming out of the speakers embedded within the stall of the shower itself. Tim turned his head up to the steam of water, letting it wash over his face. He opened his eyes and saw the water at his feet running red as he ducked his head under the spray. His hair was growing heavier, logged with water, and Tim could feel the jets massaging his scalp.

The heat of the water helped sooth the aches under his skin, and Tim started scrubbing at his skin just as the symphony swelled. He could feel his skin protesting, but he had to be sure he’d gotten rid of every trace of the day that was still stuck to him. He let his hands move mindlessly, roving over his body to make sure he was clean, and then finally scrubbed soapy fingers through his hair. He rinsed the shampoo out, and then turned the shower off.

He stood there, his chest heaving while the music echoed around him. The steam swirled around his body, rising up towards the vent in the ceiling. Tim let himself out of the shower when the symphony ended, and he quickly changed the playlist to something more industrial.

The contrast in music couldn’t have been more abrupt, from classical strings and pianos to cold and hollow synths. The steam trailed after him like a ghost as he walked into his bedroom, scrubbing a towel over his body to dry off. He stripped the sheets from the bed before even getting dressed, leaving them in a crumpled pile in the corner of his room.

The chest of drawers was his next destination. He tossed the towel on the pile of sheets and then moved across the room, shivering as the A/C turned on and blew a blast of cool air over his still slightly damp skin. Tim pulled a basic white shirt out of the drawer, the kind of flimsy cotton V-neck you can get at the drug store in a back of five. He slid it over his head and immediately felt more at ease with the way the worn cotton draped over his body. Another moment, and a gray pare of sweats later, Tim was fully dressed and standing in the middle of his room. He sighed as he looked at his now stripped bed. He knew he had a second set of sheets in the hallway closet, but he’d have to wash them to get rid of the unused smell he was sure clung to them, and the last thing Tim wanted to do at this hour was laundry.

Whatever, he could just sleep on the couch. If he even went back to sleep.

A sudden sound startled Tim, it was deep, gurgling, and it took embarrassingly long for Tim to figure out it was his stomach. He’d been aware of the dull pain in his stomach since he woke up, but Tim had attributed that to the sort of nebulous pain that came from a day like he’d had.

Now though? Now Tim realized the pain he was feeling came from hunger, he couldn’t stop thinking about anything else.

He made his way to the kitchen with a pace that couldn’t quite be described as a run, but it was far to quickly to be considered a walk.

A focused jaunt, maybe.

Tim knew the only thing he had to eat was cereal. He’d made a vague note of it in his head earlier in the morning, deciding that he could just stop at one of the corner stores to pick up more food on his way home from school. Naturally, that didn’t actually happen.

Tim didn’t care, he was fine with cereal. He ignored the bare pantry that spoke volumes of his upbringing, it was true that Tim had really never learned to grocery shop. He spent the formative years of his life having other people do that for him, and it wasn’t exactly easy to erase that just because he no longer lived in a four-story brownstone with people who were payed to do everything for Tim and his family.

He picked up the cereal box and froze.

Of course.

Of course, the box was empty. The box was empty, and it was still on the shelf because Tim was a lazy heathen who still hadn’t learned to throw empty containers away. It was the cherry on top of the shit Sunday that was his day.

Tim looked around the kitchen, looked at the way the marble countertops glittered under the overhead lighting. The apartment was oppressively empty, oppressively empty, and devoid of food. He walked a few steps from the fridge and hit the button on the wall just outside of the kitchen. The whirr of a machine kicked up behind him, and Tim turned to see the blackout shades rolling upwards to reveal the skyline of nighttime Gotham City.

“Loud quiet nights in the mist of crime.” Tim whispered, leaning against the diving wall.

Tim’s stomach rumbled again. He looked at the skyline in front of him, to the front door of the apartment, and back to the lights of the darkened city. There was only a moment of hesitation before Tim turned and walked back to his room. He opened the second set of drawers and pulled out a pair of comfortably worn jeans and replaced his sweatpants with them. Tim might be dumb for going out at 3am in search of food, but he wasn’t dumb enough to do it wearing sweatpants. He opened his closet and pulled out a thin red zip up sweater with cuffs that were frayed at the wrist, pulling it on and then grabbing his wallet from the floor where it had fallen out of his pants hours ago.

He plucked his keys off the counter and then he let himself out into the hallway. Tim turned to lock his three deadbolts, and then walked to the elevator. He waited as the elevator rose to meet him.

The elevator dinged, signaling its arrival, and Tim stepped inside. He hit the button for the ground floor, and then leaned back against the wall to wait. There was a 24-hour pizza place just a few blocks away, it wasn’t technically in his neighborhood, but Tim figured he’d only have to walk a few extra minutes to get there. He could take a cab, but it would probably take longer for him to hail one at this time of night than it would to just walk to the shop.

The lobby was unsurprisingly devoid of people at 3am. The sound of Tim’s footsteps echoed as he walked out of the elevator, and he stopped to look up at his reflection in the mirrored ceiling. Even from that angle he could tell how terrible he looked, the shower had helped a bit but there were still hollow circles under his eyes and a purpling bruise on the side of his face.

Oh well.

The nighttime doorman looked up from his desk at the sound of Tim’s approach. Tim had never met the man, he was younger than Mr. Collins, but not by much. Tim kept walking, ignoring the heavy weight of the man’s eyes on him. He didn’t want to stop to talk, didn’t want to deal with silent judgement either. He wondered if Mr. Collins had told him about Tim’s breakdown earlier, wondered if he was now the talk of the staff of the building.  

Mercifully, the doorman didn’t say anything as Tim approached. He only give Tim a silent nod, though he wasn’t quite able to keep the judgmental look out of his eyes as Tim stepped outside the automatic doors. He heard a soft click, and he knew the doors had locked behind him. The only way back into the building was to either be buzzed in or to swipe one of the electronic chip keys that Tim had dangling on his keyring.

The night air was warm, too warm for the jacket that Tim had on, but he didn’t care. He liked the extra layer of false security the sweater provided, it felt like there was another buffer between himself and the darkness of Gotham City.

The street was quiet. A car passed every now and then, but the area was entirely devoid of yellow taxi cabs. There was no one walking on either side of the street, and as Tim looked out at the empty expanse of road in front of him he suddenly felt like he was walking the city after an unnamed apocalypse.

It wasn’t true, obviously. He could still hear the sounds of the city, even if he couldn’t see them. Sirens went off in the distance, and every so often a beer can or glass bottle would fall sideways as Tim walked past the mouth of an alley. They were ambient sounds of the city, just enough to let Tim know that he wasn’t alone. The sounds were good, it allowed himself not to be lulled into a false sense of comfort.

Tim looked over his shoulder. He couldn’t see his building anymore, which meant he was close to his destination. He could tell the moment the neighborhood changed, it was like walking out of the ending of one novel and into the beginning of another. The clean windows of his neighborhood gave way to the smudged, dusty windows of the next. The trashcans overflowed with god knew what, and the streetlight on the opposite side of the road flickered on and off.

It was the magic of Gotham City. One moment you were in he comfort of luxury, completely safe with all the security that entailed, and then you found yourself out on the _true_ streets of the city all within one traffic light.

Neon lights lined the buildings, buzzing with advertisements of booze and food. There were no neon lights in Tim’s neighborhood, just tastefully lit marquees. Tim looked up as he walked under a neon-lit martini, his eyes scanning the rooftops around him. The old Tim would have been looking for Batman, but there was no Batman to look for anymore.

Tim paused as something metallic glinted on the rooftop across from him. He stood still, watching the refracting light above him. It was only a pinpoint of light, maybe less, but Tim was positive there was something or someone up there. He walked forward, stepping out into the street to get a closer look, but the screaming of a car horn and the sweep of headlights coming towards him made him jump backwards onto the sidewalk.

Tim’s heart was hammering in his chest, he watched the red brake lights fade into the darkness, and when he looked back up to the rooftop there was nothing there. The light was gone.

“Pull yourself together.” Tim scolded himself, his voice sounding too uncomfortably close to that of his mother.

He shook his head and began walking again. Tim could just see the outline of the pizza shop, and the flashing neon sign that came along with it. He picked up his pace, suddenly feeling the need to get inside a place with lights and a door.

The sound of footsteps appeared behind Tim. His breath caught in his throat, he knew his heart skipped a beat, but he didn’t slow down.

The pizza shop was closer now, he could see the lights coming through the large windows and several people at the tables inside. Another minute of walking, maybe less. He could make it, he’d be fine as long as he didn’t stop to look over his shoulder.

“Pretty boy stepped to the wrong side of the tracks, huh?” A gruff voice came from behind Tim, though it sounded slightly muffled.

Tim stumbled slightly, but he kept walking. He didn’t turn his head, didn’t do anything to acknowledge that he’d heard the person behind him.

“I’m talkin’ to you, kid.” The voice said, again.

“Yeah, don’t be rude.” A second voice, deeper, but still muffled.

Tim picked up speed, and so did the footsteps behind him. He felt the air move behind him as a hand shot out, he dashed forward, just outside of their reach. The other one seemed to anticipate that though, he lunged forward and wrapped a heavy hand around Tim’s wrist before he could pull it away.

Tim jerked backwards with a shout, it felt like they were trying to pull his arm out of its socket. He tried to pull it back, jerking his arm forward to dislodge the grip, but the man just held on tighter. Tim flattened his free hand, surprising the man holding him when he spun and brought a karate chop down on the weak part of his attackers’ wrist. The man howled in pain, giving Tim just enough leverage to pull his hand back.

He broke off into a run, the pavement pounding beneath his feet. His mind was racing as the restaurant got closer, he opened his mouth to yell for help, but someone tackled into him from behind. It knocked the wind out of him, and Tim cried out when they hit the nearby wall as a sharp pain shot through the front of his body.

“We were gonna do this the nice way,” the man hissed into his ear, “scare ya a little bit, maybe push you around. But since you want to be a little bitch about it…”

The man trailed off, and then darkness overtook him as he was pushed into the nearby alley. The lights from the neon signs faded, and the two men standing behind him were mere silhouettes against the light coming from the street. Tim looked towards the back of the alley and saw that it was a dead end, there was nowhere for him to run.

He moved backwards as the men advanced on him. Tim took a deep breath and tried to steel his nerves. He could still make it out of this, he didn’t have to roll over and let them do whatever they wanted. They were big, probably bigger than the guy at the school, and there were two of them. Tim knew he could probably make it out relatively unscathed if there was only one of them, but two meant he needed to be smarter about this.

The men stepped into the small beam of light coming from a bulb above, and Tim saw for the first time that they were both wearing masks. The masks were white, with black faces painted on them. It took Tim a second to realize, but as they got closer he recognized the masks.

One smiling and one frowning.

Thalia and Melpomene.

The Drama masks, Comedy and Tragedy.

He looked around for a weapon, something he could use other than his fists. The men easily had at least a hundred pounds on him, if he could find something heavy to protect himself with it might even the field a bit.

“What do you want?” Tim asked, trying to buy time as he looked for something to use, “Do you want my wallet? I’ll give it to you, just let me go.”

The man on the right, Comedy, laughed, “We don’t want your money, Drake.”

Tim’s blood ran cold.

The man on the left, Tragedy, cracked his knuckles, “We’ve been waiting for you to come over to our side of the street. It’s been torture having you so close, but we couldn’t do a damn thing because you got yourself up in that fancy little building.”

Tim’s heart was hammering in his chest. Who were they? What the hell did they want? How did they know where he lived?

“Who are you?” Tim asked, his eyes frantically scanning for anything at that point, “I couldn’t have possibly done anything to you, I just moved here!

“We knew your daddy.” Tragedy said, “We were real close, until he fucked us over.””

Tim would have laughed if he wasn’t sure he was about to possibly die. It was just like his father to still make his life more difficult.

“I’m not my father!” Tim said, “I’m seventeen, I didn’t do a thing to you.”

Comedy held up his wrist, which was now an angry red color, “Sure looks like you did something to me, kid.”

Tragedy voice was amused, it sounded like he was smiling, “We told your daddy what would happen if he ever set foot back in Gotham. He didn’t listen the first time, tried to keep things under the radar while he was in Metropolis, but we knew. We saw him every time he came, wearing that stupid fucking hat of his.”

Tim’s eye caught something sticking out from under a dumpster to his right.

Black, thick, metallic.

A crowbar.

That would work.

All he had to do was get to it.

“Again,” Tim said, “I’m not my father. I don’t even like my father!”

Comedy shrugged, “That’s too bad. We made a promise, and we always keep a promise.”

“The next Drake that walked into Gotham City wouldn’t walk out.”

Comedy and Tragedy rolled up their sleeves, and Tim saw the black tattoos that covered their arms. Prison tattoos. What the hell was his father up to in Gotham?

Comedy lunged for him as Tim jumped backwards. He kicked a box and sent it tumbling towards the two men, trash flying through the air and at the faces as Tim scrambled away. A banana peel landed on Tragedy’s mask, and he tossed it to the side after picking it off. Tim dove for the ground, trying to get as close to the dumpster as he could and not caring about any cuts or scrapes he might get along the way.

“Nowhere for you to go, pretty boy.” Comedy cackled, loping towards him slowly.

They were playing with him, which meant they underestimated him. Good. Tim could use that to his advantage.

“Please!” Tim’s voice was watery as he scrambled towards the dumpster, “Please, please don’t hurt me. I-I-I-I’m sorry for whatever my father did, but I’m just a kid. I didn’t-I couldn’t do anything about it.”

“Them’s the breaks, kid.” Comedy said, turning his head to look at Tragedy.

“Break, huh? I like the sound of that.” Tragedy sneered, “He’s got some nice legs, would feel good to get our hands on before we snapped ‘em like twigs. Too bad those jeans are in the way.”

Comedy hummed in agreement, “Kid certainly wouldn’t be walking out of Gotham after that.”

“Let’s get him.”

_Oh, fuck no._

Comedy and Tragedy ran towards him, and Tim dove for the crowbar. He just managed to touch it with the tips of his fingers, pulling it a precious few inches towards him. Comedy or Tragedy, Tim didn’t know which, wrapped a thick hand around his ankle and jerked him backwards. Tim ignored the pain of the concrete scraping below, and picked the crowbar up from the ground.

Tim realized Tragedy was the one holding him, the down-turned lips on the mask giving it away. He twisted his body, and then swung the crowbar right into the fragile joint of Tragedy’s elbow. Tragedy’s arm gave way completely, folding in on itself as he fell forward. He screamed out in pain, and a feral smile stretched across Tim’s bruised face.

The asshole never saw it coming.

Tragedy looked up at him, the sickly frown on his mask now matching what he probably felt. His elbow was completely shattered.

Tim pushed himself up from the ground, hefting the crowbar up in front of himself and holding it at the ready. They’d underestimated him before, but Tim knew they wouldn’t now. It was going to be a lot harder.

Comedy leaned down, slipping an arm under Tragedy and helping him to stand. Tragedy’s left arm hung uselessly at his side, and his body vibrated with anger. Comedy and Tragedy looked at each other and nodded, each slipping a hand inside their jackets and pulling out two identical guns.

Revolvers. Sleek and silver.

If this were anywhere else in the country, it would be a statistical improbability that he’d have multiple guns pointed at him by multiple people in the same day, but it was Gotham. This was a typical Monday for most people.

“You fucked up, pretty boy.” Tragedy growled, “Now we’ve really got to kill you.”

Tim’s back was almost to the wall. There was nowhere for him to go. He could slide behind the dumpster, but all Comedy and Tragedy had to do was walk around to him. The alley was so narrow that even if Tim could make a run for it, he ran a huge risk of being shot in the back. He tightened his grip on the crowbar and ignored the way it shook in his hands.

Tim couldn’t believe this was how he was going to die. He was going to be murdered in a back alley by two psychopaths in masks, all because he wanted pizza at three in the morning.

The sound of the hammers cocking on the twin revolvers echoed through the alley. Tim winced, listened as Tragedy held his gun up and spun the bullet chamber like they were about to play a game of Russian roulette. They were toying with him again, trying to scare him, maybe make him beg for real this time.

Tim wouldn’t beg, not when he knew the outcome wouldn’t change either way. His mother didn’t beg at the end, she even managed to look disappointed with a gun pointed at her head when Tim tried to beg for her.

The crowbar was heavy in his hand as he looked for any opening. Maybe he could fake them out, make Tragedy think he was attacking him but then switch to Comedy at the last second. If he could injure the other one at least as much as he’d done Tragedy, then he might actually stand a chance.

Tim took a deep breath, and just as he was about to lunge for ward for his attack, someone dropped down in front of him. Comedy and Tragedy both screamed, startled by the sudden appearance, and Tim jumped backwards, pressing his back flush against the wall of the alley.

Tim couldn’t see much with their surprise guests back being the only thing that was facing him, but Tim could immediately tell that the guy was built. He was easily over six feet tall, wide shoulders that tapered down into a trim waist. His arms were completely covered, black gloves pulled over his hands. He was obviously wearing some type of body armor, probably Kevlar, and a leather jacket dangled over his shoulder.

His pants were black, loose enough for him to be able to move in combat. There were holsters on his thighs, which were probably as big as Tim’s head. Tim could see the backside of a silver belt going through the loops of his pants.  He wore heavy combat books, adorned with silver straps and thick soles.

The most interesting part though? He was in a mask too. Or rather, a helmet.

Tim could only see the back side of it, but it was a red metallic helmet that covered his entire head.

“Who the fuck are you?” Comedy gasped.

Tim couldn’t see much, most of Comedy and Tragedy were obscured by the bulky frame of the man in front of him, but there was an undeniable change in the atmosphere of the alley. Their guns were still leveled at the man in front of him, and Tim wasn’t quite ready to give up his crowbar yet, but he felt like there was a higher chance that he’d be able to walk out of here without a bullet hole.

“You gonna say something you masked freak?” Tragedy barked.

The man in front of Tim laughed, and the sound came out slightly robotic, like he was using a voice modulator.

“You’re one to talk.” The man in the helmet said, “Where’d you get those masks, huh? Party city?”

“Fuck you!” Comedy growled, “Get the fuck out of here, he’s ours!”

Tim swallowed a lump in his throat. He hadn’t even thought of the possibility that the man in front of his wasn’t there to save him, that maybe he’d overheard Tim’s name and came to get a piece of the pie.

“You think I care about him?” The man pointed a lazy thumb over his shoulder at Tim.

“His daddy has money, lots of it.” Tragedy said, “Get the fuck outta our way and we’ll split it with you.”

A mechanical laugh came from the helmet, “You’re not interested in money.”

“Fuck you!” Comedy yelled, “You don’t know what the fuck we want.”

The change in his stance was minimal, but Tim could see the way the man with the helmet tensed, ready to fight.

“I’ve been watching,” the helmet whispered, “listening.”

“So?”

The man with the helmet took a step forward, “I recall you saying something about getting your hands on some impressive legs.”

Neither Comedy or Tragedy had time to reply before the man with the helmet spring into action. He went to Tragedy first, easily pulling the revolver from his hand and tossing it onto the fire escape above him.

He grabbed Tragedy by the front of his face and slammed his head backwards and into the wall. When he released his hold, Tragedy fell to the ground in a daze. He turned to Comedy next, and Comedy actually managed to fire off a shot. The man turned to the side as the bullet slammed into the shoulder that the leather jacket was draped over.

Tim gasped, waiting for the man in the helmet to fall, but he just stood there.

He was standing so still it seemed to hypnotize Comedy.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” The helmet hissed, “That was my fucking favorite jacket you massive piece of shit!”

The man dropped the jacket to the ground, and Comedy’s reaction was almost funny enough to make Tim actually laugh. The face of the mask was at odds with the way the man reacted, he screamed, scrambling backwards towards the front of the alley.

“You-you-you-you’re…you’re a fucking Bat?” Comedy screamed.

Tim felt all the air leave his lungs.

A Bat?

Tim had never seen this guy before, never heard of anyone involved with Batman that wore that kind of red helmet. Why would Comedy think this guy was associated with him?

“Not quite.” The man in the helmet laughed.

The man in the helmet ran forward and dropped to the ground, he swept his leg under Comedy, knocking his feet out from under him. Comedy fell to the ground, letting out a pained gasp as his head hit the concrete. The man with the mask rolled forward so he was next to Comedy, he was still crouched, and as soon as Comedy stopped moving the man with the mask angled his left side toward Comedy, lifted his left leg almost perfectly parallel over Comedy’s face, and dropped his heel into Comedy’s head. Comedy’s mask split in half, falling into two equal pieces on either side of his head.

Tim watched anxiously as the man in the helmet stood. He pushed himself up from the ground with a small jump, springing to his feet in an instant. He let out a robotic groan as he reached back and clasped his hands behind his head. He leaned backwards and stretched, sighing as he turned around to face Tim.

Tim quickly realized why Comedy called him a Bat. There was a red bad symbol across the chest of his armor, it looked almost improvised, as if it was spray painted on using a stencil. Tim could also see the front of the helmet now, not that there was much to see. The helmet was molded to his head, and two white eyes stood out, almost glowing in the low light of the alley.

“You good?” The man asked.

Tim nodded jerkily, “Who are you?”

The man cocked his head to the side, “You can call me the Red Hood.”

Tim mirrored the position of Red Hood’s head, “That’s a helmet, not a hood.”

The Red Hood leaned backwards, “Damn, are you this mouthy to everyone who saves you?”

Something stirred behind the Red Hood, it was Comedy pushing himself up from the ground and trying to run away. The Red Hood looked over his shoulder, sighed a mechanical sigh, and pulled a gun from the holster on his side. Tim watched in horror as the Red Hood, while keeping his face directly towards Tim, pointed the gun at Comedy’s back and pulled the trigger.

The gunshot rang out through the alley, and Comedy fell to the ground with a strangled cry. The Red Hood shook his head, checking his gun before shrugging and taking a step towards Tim. Tim’s eyes flickered from Comedy’s prone body, to the Red Hood, and back to Comedy. Comedy wasn’t moving, the only sound in the alley was the beating of Tim’s heart, Tragedy’s sniffling tears of pain, and Red Hood’s footsteps.

Red Hood still hadn’t holstered his gun, and he was getting closer to Tim by the second. Tim panicked, he held the crowbar up with trembling arms and pointed it at the Red Hood.

“Stay away from me.”

The Red Hood paused his advance almost instantly. His head turned towards the crowbar in Tim’s hand, and Tim could have sworn he saw the Red Hood flinch just a bit. With the Red Hood closer now, Tim could see that the white eyes of his helmet were acting like camera lenses, they focused and defocused, tracking Tim’s movements with perfect precision.

“Put that down.” The Red Hood said, his voice just a metallic whisper.

Tim’s grip on the crowbar tightened.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” The Red Hood said, “I just want to make sure you’re OK.”

“Says the man holding a gun.” Tim flicked the crowbar towards Red Hood’s hand, and this time the Red Hood did flinch.

The Red Hood help up both hands, he flicked the safety of the pistol on and slowly slid it back into its holster. It calmed Tim, but only so much. He’d seen everything the Red Hood could do before he’d even thought of drawing a gun.

“Just let me go.” Tim said, “Please.”

“You can go any time you want.” The Red Hood said, “Just put down the fucking crowbar.”

Tim’s grip wavered, “Why? So I’m defenseless?”

“No.” The Red Hood’s mechanical voice was flat, “I just don’t fucking like crowbars, OK?”

“You shot him.” Tim looked back at Comedy.

“He was going to do worse to you.” The Red Hood said.

Tim flinched, _he’s got some nice legs_ , the crowbar fell from his hands and crashed to the floor of the alley. Tim kicked it away, it scraped across the concrete and slid back under the dumpster where he’d found it. He pressed himself against the back wall again and scrubbed a hand down his face, wincing when he put too much pressure on the bruise there.

“You Ok?” The Red Hood asked, “You need…uh…medical attention?”

Tim laughed, a slight edge of bitterness creeping into it, “No, I’m fine.”

“Cool.” The Red Hood said.

Cool?

“Uh, he might though.” Tim pointed at Comedy’s possibly dead body.

“He’ll survive.” The Red Hood said, “It was a rubber bullet.”

Tim blinked, “A rubber bullet?”

Red Hood nodded, “Painful enough just below the point of lethality. He’ll wake up in Blackgate with the worst headache of his life, probably a concussion.”

“Brain damage too, probably.” Tim mumbled.

Red Hood shrugged, “Not my problem.”

Tim didn’t feel like arguing semantics with the crazy man wearing a mask.

“What the hell are you even doing out here?” Red Hood asked, “Isn’t it past your bed time?”

Tim rolled his eyes, “I’ve had a terrible day, and I was hungry.”

“Hungry?” Red Hood cocked his head to the side, “Seriously? You almost…because you were _hungry_?”

Tim angled his eyes towards the ground, “I don’t have anything to eat at home, so it was either this or not eat anything.”

The Red Hood shook his head, “Damn kid, order something in.”

“It’s almost four in the morning.” Tim pointed out, "And don't call me kid."

Tim saw Tragedy stand out of the corner of his eye. He was hunched over, hobbling towards the mouth of the alley and Comedy’s body. The Red Hood saw him too, he abruptly turned from Tim and grabbed Tragedy by the neck of his shirt. Tragedy screamed as the Red Hood hauled him backwards, and Tim stepped out of the way just in time as the Red Hood slammed Tragedy into the wall next to him.

The Red Hood leaned in close to Tragedy’s face, “Who sent you?”

“No one!” Tragedy glared, “Just wanted to take the little fuck for his money.”

The Red Hood pulled him away from the wall, and then slammed him into it again.

“Wrong answer, dickwad.” The Red Hood laughed, “What did you want with this kid?”

“I’m not telling you shit.”

The Red Hood took a deep breath, then released it in a way that made him sound suspiciously like Darth Vader. He reached out and wrapped his free hand around the front of Tragedy’s mask, ripping it off his face with one swift motion.

The man under Tragedy’s mask looked exactly like a stereotypical gangster. Tragedy reared his head back, and then spat on the metallic face of the Red Hood’s helmet.

Tim’s jaw dropped, and the motorized eyes on Red Hood’s helmet grew wide. Red Hood reached up and wiped the spit off with his gloved hand, then smacked Tragedy across the face with the same hand. Tragedy let out a gasp, and then the Red Hood reached down and grabbed Tragedy’s right hand.

“You ever come near him again,” The Red Hood turned his head to Tim for a brief second, “you ever touch him again, you ever _think_ about touching him again, and I’ll do more than just break your god damn fingers.”

“My fin-”

Tragedy was cut off as the Red Hood suddenly bent four fingers of Tragedy’s right hand back until they were flat on top of his palm. The snapping sound they made would have caused Tim to throw up if he’d had any food in his stomach. Tragedy’s screams were deafening, and the Red Hood had apparently heard enough because he jerked his head forward before slamming it against the back of the wall again.

Tragedy fell to the ground unconscious, his broken elbow and mangled hand going down with him.

“Fucking hate sick fucks like him." Red Hood sneered at Tragedy’s unconscious body.

Tim stepped away from Tragedy, “Thanks. Uh, I don’t think I said that.”

Red Hood looked over his shoulder, “It’s fine.”

Tim looked at the two bodies in the alley, at Red Hood, and then down at himself. He was bleeding from a few cuts on his arm, and his jeans were ruined, but it could have been so much worse.

“So…what now?” Tim asked.

He’d never exactly been saved by a vigilante before. Did the Red Hood expect money?

“You know why they wanted to hurt you?” The Red Hood asked.

Tim shook his head, “I don’t know. They said something about my father, but it didn’t make any sense.”

“Where is he?” The Red Hood asked.

“Not in the picture.” Tim answered immediately, “He doesn’t matter.”

“Sure sounded like he mattered to them.” The Red Hood pointed at Comedy and Tragedy, “They were willing to take it out on you to get to him.”

Tim scoffed, “Trust me, my father would not care in the slightest if these guys had painted the walls with my brain.”

Red hood flinched.

“Where do you live?” Red Hood asked.

“Seriously?” Tim raised an eyebrow.

“I could just follow you, but it would be easier to know where you’re going.” The Red Hood shrugged.

Tim hesitated for a moment, “You’re going to…walk me home?”

Red Hood paused, and Tim had a sneaking suspicion there was an eye roll happening behind that helmet, “I’m going to _follow_ you home to make sure nothing else happens to you. It doesn’t look like these guys were working alone. Freaks in masks never work alone.”

Tim bit back the snarky reply that was poised dangerously on the tip of his tongue, “Whiteside Towers.”

A high-pitched whistle came from the Red Hood, “Got you a nice Ivory Tower, Little Prince.”

“Don’t call me that.” Tim said immediately, turning his back to the Red Hood and walking to the street.

The street was entirely empty, and there were no sounds of approaching sirens so that meant no one had called to report gunfire. Tim could feel the Red Hood behind him, a solid presence that towered over him. He looked down at the pizza place and sighed, feeling the returning pangs of hunger pile on top of his newly formed injuries. He frowned, turning back towards the way home and starting to walk.

“Go get your damn pizza.” The Red Hood said, shaking his head.

“It’s fine.” Tim waved over his shoulder, “I’ll survive.”

“Don’t be fuckin’ difficult, LP.” The Red Hood growled, “Go get your food, I’ll wait.”

Tim turned on his heel, ready to lay into the man for the stupid nickname, but the Red Hood pulled something from the silver belt around his waist and pointed it towards the sky. He pulled the trigger and a long cable shot out of it, it ripped the Red Hood from the ground and up towards the smog filled clouds.

Tim turned, trying desperately to find him. When he did, he saw the Red Hood on the top of a building across from the pizza place, leaning against the roof access door. The Red Hood flicked a hand towards the pizza place, and Tim relented.

He looked over his shoulder to see if the Red Hood was still there before he walked inside, and Tim saw him standing in the same spot. The Red Hood moved his head slightly, and Tim recognized the same metallic glint of light that he’d seen earlier on his walk.

The Red Hood had been following him all night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If Tim had an AIM screen name it would be xXx_TimmyTrauma_xXx
> 
> Next chapter will be Jason's POV, maybe you'll find out why he doesn't outright murder fools! 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! I look forward to the comments!


	4. Alterlife

 

 

 

Four

Alterlife

 

Jason ran his fingers under the edge of his helmet.

His hood.

He caught the tip of the hidden keypad that reacted to hepatic feedback, tapping out the unlock code with the tip of his index finger. He thought it was a nifty trick that Barbara had installed, and he found it even cooler when she told him if someone tried to do it without the proper code the mask would fry them with enough electricity to render them unconscious for at least four hours.

Tap. Pause. Tap. Tap. Tap. Pause. Tap. Tap. Pause. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Pause. Tap. Tap. Pause.

The gears of the mask hissed as they unlocked, and Jason ran his fingers around the back of the hood to unclasp the hidden hooks at the base of the helmet. He pulled the helmet off, and it took Jason a second to adjust to the view without the HUD that the hood provided. There were no vital scans, no options to access infrared or night vision, just plain old boring eyes.

Jason leaned back as the elevator rumbled upwards. He could see his reflecting in the shiny silver metal, the domino mask he’d worn under the hood was still in place, and his hair was messy and matted with sweat. It was a little hotter under the hood than he’d anticipated, but maybe that was something they could figure out down the line.

He leaned forward and ran his hand across the hastily improvised bat logo he’d thrown on the armor before…borrowing it earlier in the night. The paint was already starting to rub off, but what did he really expect when he’d decided to use a cheap can of spray paint on top of the line Kevlar? The Kevlar might hold up to fists, knives, and gunfire, but cheap paint sure didn’t.

Still, it had it’s intended effect. The look people got in their eyes when they noticed the bat, the way their cocky attitudes dropped, the way they curled in on themselves, it was all a rush. Jason’s issues with Bruce were plenty, but now he could at least see part of the reason why his father continued on year after year.

It was a rush.

Jason wanted to be feared, he wanted to make the psychopaths of Gotham shit themselves as the sight of him. He wanted to make sure that the things that happened to him never happened to another person out there on the street. Jason wasn’t naive enough to think he could save everyone from some fucked up fate in Gotham, but he could at least try to save as many as he could.  

In one night, Jason had been more brutal than Batman had been in almost his entire career. Batman was never a pushover, but he rarely ventured as deep into the territory of physical pain as Jason did. He’d only ever seen Bruce lose his cool under the cowl a handful of times, and they’d all be perfectly legitimate reasons. Jason though? He didn’t need to wait until one of his own was lying in a pool of their blood, or crying while stretched out on a table so beaten and broken they were almost past the point of no return.

Jason would never let things get that far, and if he had to break a few hands, or any other body parts, then it was just something he’d have to do.

The demon brat would probably understand, but there was going to be a whole new assortment of problems when Dickface found out. Jason was already preparing himself for the lectures, and when those failed, for the attempts at guilt tripping him by telling Jason he wasn’t honoring Bruce’s memory.

Jason cradled the helmet under his arm as the elevator slowed to a stop. He cracked his neck as the doors opened, and he noticed the oncoming attack before he’d even stepped out of the elevator. His right hand shot up, just barely managing to catch the heavy metal baton before it hit him in the center of his face. It was impeccably aimed, and almost surely would have broken his nose if it hit him.

Maybe he should have kept the hood on just in case.

The lights overhead turned on, dousing the room in warm light. Jason shook his head, setting the helmet on the closest table and then turning to face the onslaught he knew was surely coming.

The Clocktower was buzzing with energy. Even at the asinine hour of morning, computer screens were lit up, lines of code scrolling down some, real time police reports and 911 calls on others. The far wall held most of them, collections of monitors that joined together to form a screen so large that the bat computer would be jealous of it.

Jason flipped the metal baton in his hand, stepping through a holographic rendering of Gotham on his way to the raised platform in front of him. He bypassed the ramp, instead choosing to vault himself up the wall and over the black iron railing.

Barbara’s back was to him, her fingers moving a mile a minute over one of the keyboards in front of her. Oracle’s creepy green head was floating on a screen that was pulled out next to her chair, its lips moving in tandem with whatever she was saying into her headset. Jason watched her work, fascinated as she hacked into a secure server and shut down all security systems for Huntress.

“The girl is in the last room on the left, security should be occupied by hack long enough to give you time to escape with her.”

Four of the screens to Barbara’s right filled with footage of Huntress breaking into a small room and hefting an unconscious child into her arms. The feed switched to one in the hallway, Huntress made her way out onto a balcony, shooting her grapple into the building next door and swinging across with the girl over her shoulder. Huntress descended the fire escape on the other side of the building and dropped down into an alley where an SUV was waiting for her. A man rushed out of the backseat, taking the girl from Huntress and cradling her in his arms. The camera zoomed in, and Jason could see the tears that were falling from his eyes.

“Handoff is complete,” Huntress said, looking directly at the camera, “she’s back with her dad.”

“Good job,” Barbara said, “follow them to the airport just in case, I don’t want any surprises before they get out of the city.”

“Copy.”

The SUV pulled back onto the street, and Huntress followed behind on her motorcycle.

“If everything goes smooth, Canary will meet you back at the safehouse.” Barbara said, turning to the feed that showed Black Canary lifting a man up by his ankles and using him as a melee weapon against another guy who was rushing her.

Jason could hear the smirk in Barbara’s voice, “I think she’s got it handled though. I’ll be monitoring from the background, but I’m going radio silent.”

“Got it, thanks.” Huntress said.

Barbara nodded, “Oracle out.”

Jason twirled Barbara’s baton around between his fingers, “Nice work, O. What’s the mission?”

Barbara turned, cracking her knuckles and rubbing her palms against the pajama pants she was wearing, “French diplomats’ daughter was abducted from her school yesterday afternoon, they told him if he went to the police that they’d send her fingers to him one by one.”

Jason’s stomach clenched, and his grip on the baton tightened, “So he came to you instead?”

Barbara laughed, “More like I came to him. Huntress just got the girl out, she’s with her dad now and they’re flying back to France. Canary is taking care of kidnappers before Interpol receives an anonymous tip.”

Jason whistled, impressed, “And all before the sun even came up.”

Barbara arched a single eyebrow, which Jason knew from years of experience was a harbinger of doom.

“It could have gone a little smoother, honestly.” Barbara said, wheeling herself towards him, “I didn’t have time to prep for an unscheduled patrol, and I almost missed the trip of a silent alarm in the second I took my eye off Helena to make sure _you_ were up and running.”

Jason narrowed his eyes, “You were in my head and didn’t say anything?”

“Did you expect anything less?” Barbara laughed, “I wanted to see what was so important that you’d have to steal the suit before it was done.”

“Can’t steal something if it’s mine.” Jason pointed out.

Barbara pinched the bridge of her nose, “Putting aside the fact that you went out in what is essentially an untested prototype, the entire reason I agreed to let you stay here after your fight with Dick was because you promised that you wouldn’t do something like this, Jason.”

“Technically I promised that I would think about not doing something stupid, and I did. I thought about not doing it, and I decided that I wanted to anyway.” Jason grinned, “And hey, we don’t have to say that it’s an untested prototype anymore.”

Barbara sighed, shaking her head, “I liked you better when you were an annoying 13-year-old who wouldn’t stop staring at my chest.”

“I liked you better when you didn’t try to break my nose when you were pissed off at me.” Jason held up the baton she’d thrown at him.

Barbara shrugged, “I was actually aiming for your forehead, I thought it might knock a little sense into you. It was dark, my aim was off.”

Jason smirked, they both knew she easily could have hit him if she wanted to.  He tossed the baton to Barbara. She caught it, and then collapsed it in on itself before setting it on the workstation closest to her. Jason turned, walking down the ramp and towards the opposite side of the Clocktower to the display cases. He glanced up at Barbara’s old Batgirl costume before stopping in front of the one that held the Red Hood prototype a few hours earlier.

“Don’t bother putting in back in the case,” Barbara said as she followed him down the ramp, “I need to make some changes to it, starting with the paintjob and replacing it with something a little more professional.”

Jason tipped his head back and laughed, “Sorry. It was improvised”

Barbara hummed a non-committal sound, “It’s fine. It looks…good. I’m glad you decided to go with it, I like the symbol in red.”

“’Made one of the assholes out there piss his pants. Literally.” Jason laughed, “I see why B loved it so much.”

Barbara smiled wistfully, “It’s a loaded symbol, that’s for sure.”

Jason shrugged off his lather jacket, frowning as the bullet hole before he kicked it to the side. He winced, the movements of his shoulder must have aggravated the blow he’d take from the gun. The Kevlar stopped a direct hit, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t feel it. There was probably a nasty bruise under the armor.

“I’ll take a look at your shoulder.” Barbara said, and Jason cringed, “Yes, I did see you get shot.”

Jason groaned, unclasping the armor at the sides and pulling the chest piece off. He pulled the guns from their holsters, checking the safety before unloading both of them and setting them on the table. The holsters went next, he unsnapped them from around his thighs and sat them in a pile next to the guns. He un-looped the utility belt from around his waist and hung it over the back of the chair.

He was in the middle of the Clocktower in his combat pants and undershirt. He sat down in the chair, pulling off his shirt and turning his bruised shoulder towards Barbara. It didn’t look pretty, there was already a nasty purple bruise forming, but Jason had complete range of motion in it, so the shoulder was probably fine.

Barbara prodded at him, poking the bruise, and then moving his arm in every possible direction before she let go of him, “We don’t have to amputate.”

Jason breathed an exaggerated sigh of relief, resting a hand over his heart, “Thank the good lord up above.”

“Don’t be a little shit.” Barbara rolled her eyes, flicking him in the nose.

She made her way to the table that Jason’s suit was resting on, flipping it over and inspecting the chest piece. She rolled backwards and grabbed a bottle from another table, followed by a rag. She poured the fluid from the bottle onto the rag and wiped it across Jason’s spray-painted bat logo, and then it was gone. She inspected the shoulder, and then made a few notes on her tablet. Jason’s discarded leather jacket was in her way, so she leaned down to pick it up and then tossed it at Jason’s head.

“Man, I loved this jacket.” Jason frowned, lamenting the loss.

Barbara hummed, “If you would have waited another day I would have given you the one I’ve been working on. It’s made of breathable Kevlar, and entirely resistant to weather, fire, and electricity.”

“Damn.” Jason mumbled, “I know you’re annoyed, but I’m not sorry I went out tonight. I helped a lot of people.”

“I know. I saw.” Barbara turned to him with a small smile, “I also happened to see the Red Hood with a certain someone from your school. Anything you’d like to tell me, Jay?”

Barbara had her mom face on, and Jason liked that face a lot less than the older sister face she normally give him. Jason didn’t look directly at her, it wasn’t his fault that he’d stumbled across the mess of a boy who’d helped him earlier in the day. It wasn’t like Jason specifically went out in search of Tim, he just happened to see someone in need of help, and it just happened to be Tim.

Tim Drake was apparently a magnet for trouble, and that wasn’t Jason’s fault in the slightest.

“Jason.” Barbara said, her voice even, “Bruce gave you…the talk…right?”

Jason’s eyes went wide, “What the fuck, Babs?”

Barbara laughed, “It’s not a big deal, we all had to have it. Hell, Dick had to have it _twice_.”

Jason pinched the bridge of his nose, “Babs, there was no need for any _talk_ by the time I came to Bruce. That ship had already sailed, like it or not.”

Barbara’s face dropped into the face that Jason hated to see on people the most. If was the face that said, _shit I always forget that you were a fucked-up street kid before a man who dressed as a flying rodent scooped you up from your fucked-up life_. Jason usually stormed out when he saw that look on people’s faces, and the only reason he didn’t was because it was Babs. She was one of the few people Jason actually felt guilty about storming out on, mostly because she was the only person who’d ever been entirely fair with him.

Jason opened his mouth to say something, but Barbara held up a finger to silence him.

“I didn’t mean _that_ talk, Jay.”

“Oh.” Jason blinked, “Then I have no idea which talk you’re talking about.”

Barbara sighed, leaning back in her chair and scrubbing a hand over her face, “The _don’t use your Batman training to stalk cute boys or girls_ talk.”

Jason’s eyes went wide, comically so if Barbara’s laugh was any indication, “You think I’m _stalking_ him?”

Barbara shrugged, “I mean, you did put a guy in the hospital as a civilian for hurting him, and then you followed him across the rooftops for nearly an hour before making sure that he got home in one piece.”

Jason’s jaw dropped, he was going to have to start paying more attention to make sure Oracle wasn’t in his head when he wasn’t aware of it.

“I just met the guy, Babs.” Jason said, “I promise you I’m not stalking him. It’s not my fault that he lacks general self-preservation instincts. I mean, who the hell goes out at almost four in the morning because they want pizza? He’s lucky I was there; those assholes would have…”

Barbara put a hand on his knee, stopping his tirade, “I know, I heard it all. I’m glad you were there.”

“He’s a god damn idiot.” Jason growled, “I stood up there watching him, just to see what he would do, and that asshole really thought he could take on those creeps with a…a stupid fucking weapon?”

“He’s tenacious, I’ll give him that.” Barbara smiled, “You know he’s the one who figured out the thing with the song, right?”

Jason cocked his head to the side, “No? What thing with the song?”

Jason was too busy arguing with Dick in the aftermath of what happened at the school. Dick disagreed with the level of force that Jason had used to take down the guy who tried to break Tim’s neck, and Jason thought it was fair play that the asshole knew what it felt like. Dick, being a dick, wouldn’t relent on his position, and Jason, being a stubborn asshole, tried to hit him.

It all went downhill from there, which is how Jason found himself sleeping at the Clocktower instead of the Manor.

Whatever.

Jason didn’t want to talk about Tim Drake, didn’t even want to think about him. Tim Drake was an idiot who didn’t know how to keep himself out of trouble, and so what if that dumb grateful smile he’d given the Red Hood just before he walked into his building made Jason see stars?

“You finish analyzing that footage?” Jason asked, changing the subject.

Barbara’s eyes told him she knew what he was doing, but she didn’t say anything, “Yes. I compiled all the footage I could get my hands on, which included hacking into a few cellphones and seeing pictures I never wanted to see, and finished the reconstruction right before you walked in.”

Oracle, queen of multi-tasking.

“You tell Dickie?” Jason asked.

Barbara shook her head, “I figured it could wait until morning.”

A wild grin stretched across Jason’s face, “Does that mean I get to see something before him?”

Barbara turned her chair away from him, rolling herself into the center of the room. The center of the Clocktower was a hollow circle, it was surrounded by tables and computers, but the center of the room was reserved for any and all digital creations Barbara worked on. Most of the times it was a 3D-projected map, but other times she’d create full digital reconstructions of crime scenes that you could literally walk through.

She held up her tablet, “I’m only showing you this because I’m dying to get a second set of eyes on it.”

Jason got up from his chair, walking to the center of the room to stand next to Barbara. She typed a few things into her tablet, and then the center of the room was filled with a digital recreation of the morning that Bruce died.

It was a building dedication, some stupid WE ribbon cutting ceremony. Jason could tell that he and Barbara were standing on the platform where Bruce had been right before the bomb went off in the building. Jason backed up a few paces, turning to the right and coming face-to-face with a digital Brice Wayne.

“Holy shit.” Jason whispered, dragging is fingers through Digital Bruce and watching the hologram flicker around them.

“Don’t do that.” Barbara scolded.

“Sorry.” Jason hung his head guiltily before shoving his hands in his pockets.

Barbara moved her finger along the screen of her tablet, advancing the recreation like a silent video. Digital Bruce smiled, bobbing his head along and politely answering questions. Digital Damian was at his side, until about a few minutes into the presentation where he silently turned and made his way into the building.

“Demon brat had to go to the bathroom.” Jason pointed out, his eyes tracking the digital Damian as he walked into the building.

“Be nice to him,” Barbara said pointedly, “I know he’s dealing with a lot of guilt, even if he’ll never say it out loud.”

Jason didn’t say anything, he honestly loved the little asshole more than he’d ever expected himself to. He couldn’t imagine what Damian was feeling, whatever it was had to be made even worse by Damian’s suffer in silence policy. None of Bruce’s kids were good with showing emotion, but Damian straight up hid everything unless it was masked with violent rage or a sarcastic attitude.

“Here’s the part where things start to get tricky.” Barbara frowned.

The recreation switched, and now they were standing inside the lobby of the building itself. Damian walked down a long hallway, disappeared through a door, and then the recreation faded.

“Wait, what?” Jason turned to Barbara, “What just happened?”

Barbara sighed, “All CCTV and security cameras went down about twenty seconds before the explosion.”

The scene couldn’t be recreated without multiple angles from the CCTV cameras, so a single screen popped up in front of them. It was footage from a news camera that the family had been assured was destroyed.

As if she read his mind, Barbara glared at the footage, “It was still stored on their server in a hidden folder, I hacked in, grabbed the file, and then corrupted their entire system just because they lied to us.”

Jason nodded, “Good job.”

The screen started to play the video. Bruce was talking, and then the explosion happened. The sound was quieter than Jason had expected, but it was still loud enough to startle everyone outside the building. The camera fell to the ground, but someone quickly picked it up and focused it on the building. There was already a plume of smoke rising from the roof, and Jason could see the shattered from windows of the building.

“Damian!” Bruce’s frantic shout came through, causing the cameraman to swing the shot back towards him.

Bruce didn’t even hesitate before he turned on his heel, jumping off the platform and rushing into the building. Just as Bruce pushed his way through the door, another blast went off and the camera feed died.

“You sure Dick should see this?” Jason asked.

“No.” Barbara shook her head, “But he wants to, and I can’t stop him from that.”

Jason’s relationship with Bruce could only be described as rocky at the best of times, and even he was close to losing it watching the footage. Dick, though? Aside from a few incidents through the years, Dick practically worshipped the ground that Bruce walked on.  Dick was going to lose it. He was already beating himself up for not being there.

Groups of cellphone recordings floated in front of them now, replacing the single video from the news crew. They all played silently, looping at different points. In total, four bombs went off inside the building before it collapsed. Damian stumbled out of the building before the third one went off.

“I deleted the video of Damian passing out.” Barbara pointed to the video in the corner.

“Bruce got Damian out, and then went back in to try and rescue more people.” Jason folded his arms over his chest, “Where does not-Batman come in?”

“That brings us to this.” Barbara tapped her tablet, the screens all died, and then a rendering of Batman’s suit popped up in front of them.

Jason leaned in closely, and he instantly knew that it wasn’t Bruce’s. He’d spent years next to the suit, there was no way an imposter like that would fool him.

“I created this using images from various cameras a block away from the explosion. It’s the first place this guy appears anywhere in the city.” Barbara reached out and flicked the rendering with her fingers, and it spun in place, “Whoever this is did a decent job recreating the suit, but we can both tell it’s not the same.”

“Cape is made of cheap fabric.” Jason pointed out, leaning in to inspect small tears in it, “Also, you know, the whole mouthpiece over the cowl gives it away.”

The imposter Batman’s face was entire covered, the cowl gave way to a metallic guard over the lower part of the face. Whoever did this was trying to hide who they were completely.

The rendering faded, and then another cellphone video popped up. It was a video of the fake Batman swinging into action on the scene of the explosion. Not-Batman swung down from a nearby rooftop and sprinted into the building, fake cape billowing behind him.

“That’s not one of B’s grapple lines.” Jason pointed to the braided rope at the beginning of the video, “It looks like standard military. It’s strong, but anyone could get it if they knew the right place to check.”

All of their grapple lines were custom made by a project funded by WE, there was no way anyone could get their hands on them unless Bruce gave it to them.

“Almost exactly a minute after our Batman imposter runs inside, the final bomb goes off and the building collapses completely.” Barbara’s voice was almost a whisper, “Bruce’s cause of death was blunt force trauma to the head, and they never recovered the body of the fake Batman.”

Jason stepped out of the ring and slammed his fist against one of the metal tables, “None of this makes sense! This isn’t…Bruce doesn’t get to go out like this! He doesn’t get to die in a fucking building because he got hit in the head, that’s not how Batman dies.”

Jason jumped, startled when Barbara’s hand rested itself on his lower back. She moved it up and down, rubbing a soothing motion into his skin to try and calm him down.

“I know.” Barbara said softly, “This is terrible, and it’s not the way any of us thought this would happen. But there’s obviously something more to it, and we’re the only ones left who can figure this out for him.”

Jason vividly remembered getting the call from Dick telling him that Bruce had died. He’d been laying in his cabin, wordlessly staring at the wooden ceiling when his satellite phone rang. He’d thought Dick was fucking with him at first, trying to make him feel bad for staying away from Gotham for so long, but then Dick broke down into tears and Jason knew it was true.

In all the years that they’d known each other, Jason had only ever seen or heard his brother cry once before that.

“I’m running a full canvas of the city. I’ve got an offsite supercomputer pulling in data from every single camera in Gotham from before the attack and immediately after. CCTV, home security, business, ATM, traffic, any and all. It’s going to take a long time, there’s terabytes of footage for it to sift through, but I will find out where the hell this fake Batman came from, where he went, and then we’re going to find him and figure out why this happened.”

Jason huffed out a laugh, “You’re one scary lady, O.”

“And don’t you forget it.” Barbara smirked, poking him in the ribs.

A beeping sound from the bank of computers on the platform drew their attention.

“Batgirl to Oracle.”

“Wait, what?” Jason’s eyes shot to Barbara.

Barbara didn’t say anything, she turned and made her way back up to the computers she’d been at when Jason walked it. Jason followed behind her, because he wanted to know how the hell there was a new Batgirl.

“Oracle here,” Barbara said, “What’s up, Batgirl?”

Batgirl’s voice seemed too familiar for Jason’s liking, “So, I know you told me to stick to my designated patrol route…”

Barbara sighed, resting her head in her hands, “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything!” Batgirl sounded offended, it made Jason smirk, “I just…found something.”

“Hold on, I’m pulling up your location.” Barbara said, tapping away at one of her keyboards.

Several monitors changed to show various CCTV cameras around the city, they jumped around from image to image until they settled on the person who was apparently Batgirl.

“Oh, so Batgirl doesn’t have a camera attached to her head?” Jason glared at Barbara.

Barbara ignored him.

Jason leaned forward to inspect one of the monitors. He couldn’t see much, but from what he could tell this new Batgirl was apparently a blonde girl in an entirely different suit than the one Barbara had worn in her previous life. This was an interesting development, and Dick hadn’t mentioned it, which meant that Dick probably didn’t know.

Jason let out a silent laugh, shaking his head, sometimes he forgot that Barbara was better at keeping secrets than all of them put together.

“Anyway,” Batgirl said, “I got bored because you stuck me in a part of the city where literally nothing happens, so I just popped over a few blocks to see if there was anything interesting I could help with.”

Jason pulled out a spare chair and dropped down next to Barbara. Batgirl was pacing back and forth in front of an alley, and Jason couldn’t help the weird feeling of déjà vu he felt.

“What did you find?” Barbara asked, looking at Jason out of the corner of her eye.

“Well, there’s these two creepy dudes with the hell beat out of them in an alley. One of them has this wicked bruise on the base of his neck, and the other looks like he had a broken elbow and a really, really, disgustingly broken hand.”

Jason’s eyes went wide, Batgirl was in the same alley he’d saved Tim in.

“Seriously, whoever broke this guys hand must have been pissed. He’ll probably never be able to use it again, I don’t even want to know what this guy did to deserve it.”

Jason ignored Barbara’s pointed look.

“There’s also some creepy masks nearby, but that’s not why I called you.” Batgirl said, picking up one of the stupid fucking masks the idiots were wearing and waving it at the camera across the street, “Can you zoom in on me?”

Barbara took control of the camera, zooming in on Batgirl. Jason could see her more clearly now, could see how young her face looked, at that her costume was primarily purple. A yellow bat symbol stretched across her chest.

“These guys are covered in prison tattoos, but there was one I remembered seeing in some of your files.” Batgirl held up the arm of the guy he’d shot, and Jason almost couldn’t believe that he was still passed out.

Maybe Tim was right when he said that Jason had given the guy permanent brain damage.

Oh well.

Barbara zoomed in on the arm Batgirl was holding up, the screen pixelated for a moment before it cleared and give them both a perfect view of the tattoo Batgirl was pointing at.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Jason hissed, cutting a quick look at Barbara.

“Crap.”

Batgirls face came back into view, she was looking directly at the camera, “The False Face Society is the name of Black Mask’s gang, right?”

“Yes,” Barbara said, “they’ve haven’t been active in almost two years, this is the first sighting of them since Batman and Catwoman worked together to drive Black Mask out of Gotham.”

Jason remembered that fight, he had a few scars from it too. It was back when he was still Robin, a few months before everything went to shit.

“Does this mean Black Mask is back?” Batgirl asked, “With Batman gone…”

“I haven’t gotten any chatter about him, but I’ll reach out and see if I can find anything on his location. If he’s back in Gotham, then we need to let everyone know as soon as possible.” Barbara paused, “This was excellent work, Batgirl. I’m glad you caught it.”

Jason suspected that last part was a jab at him. What was Jason supposed to do? Give the assholes a once over after getting Tim to safety?

Actually, yeah. He probably should have done that.

“They’ve got drugs on them too.” Batgirl said, “Want me to tie ‘em up?”

“Yeah, that will work. I’ll send in a tip to the GCPD and have someone take them in. You head home and get some sleep.”

Batgirl looked up at the camera and smiled, “OK. Batgirl out.”

Barbara leaned back, letting out a groan as she ran a hand through her hair. She raised her arms above her head and stretched before letting her head drop back against her chair.

“There’s a lot to unpack here.” Jason said, twisting in his chair to look at her.

Barbara closed her eyes, “Yes, there is a new Batgirl. No, Dick doesn’t know about her.”

“OK.” Jason nodded, “Did B?”

Barbara opened her eyes, “He knew I was thinking about it, told me he trusted my judgment and that Batgirl was my mantle to give away. She’s only been out there for a few weeks, only a few hours a night to try and get her acclimated. I was going to introduce her to Batman soon, but…”

“Who is she?” Jason asked, unable to stop himself.

“No.” Barbara pointed at him, “She doesn’t know anyone else’s identity but mine, and I’m not giving anyone hers unless she decided to. It’s her decision to make.”

Jason held up his hands in surrender, “I was just wondering.”

Barbara dropped the subject, turning back to the freeze frame of the tattoo that belonged to one of Tim’s attackers. Jason leaned in to look at it, it was sloppy, obviously done in prison, but it clearly said he belonged to Black Mask’s troupe of psychos.

The masks made a lot more sense now too.

Jason thought back to Tim, about how terrified he’d looked just before Jason showed up to save him. One of the assholes had mentioned Tim’s dad, but Tim didn’t seem to know any of what the other guy was talking about.

Still, Jason didn’t think it was a coincidence. He didn’t think Tim was a secret gang member, but there was obviously something going on that Tim wasn’t aware of. If Black Mask sent someone after Tim specifically, then he might still be in danger.

Jason leaned back and looked at the picture of Tim that Barbara pulled up on the screens.

Tim’s dark hair, his piercing blue eyes.

Just what did Black Mask want with him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jason! Barbara! And plot! Oh my! 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!


	5. Zombie

 

 

 

 

Five

Zombie

 

Jason woke with a gasp.

It took him a moment to realize where he was, it wasn’t the cabin, and it wasn’t his room in the Manor. He slowly leaned up in the bed, looked to his right, and then remembered where he was.

The Clocktower.

Jason looked at the gigantic clock face next to his body, watched the enormous hands as they moved silently. He was in the small loft bedroom that overlooked Oracle’s domain. It wasn’t anything exciting, just a queen-sized bed and some storage space, but it served its purpose when a wayward vigilante needed somewhere to stay for a night or two.

Barbara was in her apartment a few floors down, close enough to take a hidden elevator up to the top of the tower if the need arose.

Jason could hear the humming of computers below him, and he could just make out the top of the ladder that led downwards by the sunlight that was filtering through the frosted glass of the clock face. He rolled to his side and looked at the clock again, taking an extra moment to figure out the time since he was looking at it backwards. It was just after 2pm, which meant Jason had slept about nine hours since returning from his first patrol as the Red Hood.

It had been a peaceful sleep until Jason started dreaming of crowbars and manically laughing clowns. Jason took a deep breath as he stared at the clock, running his hand over the scars on his side. He could still feel the phantom pain of a crowbar breaking his ribs, and he swore he could feel the bones in his legs shattering with each repeated impact.

Jason got out of bed, pulling on a shirt and a pair of loose sweatpants that he was sure used to belong to Dick. He leaned over the railing of the loft and looked down into the main room of the Clocktower. Barbara wasn’t there, which meant there wasn’t anything currently world-ending going on.

He slowly climbed down the ladder, padding across the room with bare feet. He dropped into one of the chairs in front of a bank of computers and quickly typed in the access codes that Babs had given him the night before. He needed something to distract him, and since there wouldn’t be any school for about a week on account of the whole shooting thing, there was only one task that Jason could think of to occupy himself with: find out why Black Mask wants to kill Tim Drake.

Jason clicked through a few screens until he came upon the one Barbara had shown him, he opened up a few folders and then Tim Drake’s life history was flashing in front of his eyes.

Timothy Jackson Drake.

Seventeen years old.

Emancipated minor at the age of sixteen.

Mother: Janet Drake. CFO of Drake Industries. Deceased.

Father: Jack Drake. CEO of Drake Industries. Currently a patient at the best long-term care facility in Gotham.

The acrid taste of guilt filled Jason’s mouth, he felt a little in the wrong for prying into Tim’s life like this. He tried to assuage the feeling by telling himself he was doing it to protect Tim, that he couldn’t help him without knowing more about him. But it was a flimsy excuse, and Jason knew it.

He kept reading anyway.

Janet Drake was killed in a home invasion almost two years ago, murdered in front of her husband and child.  Jack Drake had been shot in the head as well, and though he survived the attack he didn’t walk away unscathed. Jack Drake had been suffering from a traumatic brain injury and would likely never recover any of his faculties aside from basic conversation and being able to breathe on his own. Tim was the only one who came out of the attack without any injuries.

Jesus.

Jason felt even worse now, like he’d just dug up the body of Tim’s mother and did the waltz with her while Tim watched.

Police reports say the attack seemed random, just a home invasion gone bad. The Drake’s were a wealthy family, it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that someone would try to take them for their money. The murderer was never caught, and Tim had been so distraught that he couldn’t offer a good description.

Distraught, or scared? What if it wasn’t a simple home invasion, what if it was Black Mask sending a message?

Tim inherited his fathers’ company after the man was deemed unfit to run a business, but from everything Barbara could find it seemed like Tim relinquished control of it to a few of the long-term upper executives.  It looked like Tim had sold his controlling portion of stock, and that he was currently living off money generated from the sale of the company as well as his rather sizable trust fund that was opened to him after the death of his parents.

That explained the apartment that was purchased outright in Whiteside Towers, those babies went for a pretty penny.

Court records showed that Tim had petitioned the court for emancipation on the grounds that he had no other family left, and that he’d rather care for himself than go into the foster system. There were some pretty high-profile attorneys attached to those records, with billing figures to match, so it wasn’t much of a surprise that Tim’s request was granted fairly quickly.  

There were a few notes from Barbara on some of the files, it seemed like she was going to start looking into the financial records of Drake Industries. The most likely reasoning for all this was money, one or both of the Drake’s had to be involved with Black Mask somehow, and a corporation like Drake Industries was the exact type of thing a shady asshole like Black Mask would want to get in on.

If that was the case, it didn’t seem like Tim knew anything about it. He’d only visited the DI main offices twice since the death of his parents. The second time was to finalize the sale of his part of the company, and once that was done there were no further records of him stepping foot inside the building.

There wasn’t much else he could do with the computers, especially now that things were venturing into forensic accounting territory. That was all on Barbara, and occasionally Damian, because Jason was useless at that shit. At some point all the numbers start to blur together and Jason gets the animalistic urge to hit someone.

Jason pushed himself away from the computer and walked over to the display cases on the other side of the room. His armor was still on the table were Barbara had left it, but the hood was inside the case and placed atop a mannequin head. He reached in and grabbed it, tossing it up and down in his hand as he weighed the idea of going out in it.

They’d agreed not to bug Tim’s apartment because that was crossing a line that Jason wasn’t comfortable with, but he never said anything about not looking through a window or two.

He quickly changed into jeans and a simple shirt, threw on his leather jacket, and grabbed his grapple gun before heading for the balcony of the Clocktower.

Jason put the hood on, taking an extra few seconds to make sure all the security measures were in place. When he was satisfied, he climbed to the edge of the balcony and then let himself fall forward. He enjoyed the feeling of freefalling, savored the rush of air past his body, before shooting his grapple gun and letting it zip him to the closest rooftop. It was probably risky to move like this in daylight, but most people in Gotham stopped paying attention to rooftops a long time ago.

He skidded to a stop on a roof a couple hundred yards away from the Clocktower and turned to face Whiteside Towers. It wasn’t too terribly far, it stood out against the horizon of the city with gleaming windows that reflected the sunlight that hit it. He’d make a quick stop by Tim’s apartment window, just to make sure the idiot hadn’t fallen asleep with pizza in his mouth and choked to death.

 

X

 

If Tim was a cat, he’d be long dead by now. Curiosity was never something he could control, even after the disastrous results of the last time he let it get the better of him.

His curiosity always got the better of him.

He hadn’t been able to go back to sleep after the incident with the Red Hood. His body felt electric, and part of him wanted to run back out into the street and demand that the vigilante talk to him. The other part, the part that had seen the Red Hood break a man’s hand in half, was happy he was behind his securely locked door inside his securely locked apartment building.

Still, sleep was something that never came. He had too much energy, and there was only one thing he could think to do with it.

Which is how Tim found himself in his office, a slice of cold pizza on the plate next to him, hacking into the Gotham City Police Department database.

Tim loved the office he’d set up in the apartment. It was the one room that felt like his, even more so than the bedroom. The bedroom was mostly just a place he went to sleep, but the office is where Tim felt like himself.

Three monitors were mounted to the wall, and the ones on the left and right-hand side were attached to extendable arms so they could be pulled out if the need arose. They were connected to two top of the line PC’s he’d had custom built for maximum power and performance.  His laptop sat off to the side, it wouldn’t be terribly useful for the task he needed to accomplish.

Tim settled himself into the plush office chair, tapping his fingers along the top of the solid work desk as he tried to decide how he wanted to go about the whole thing. It would probably be easy enough to brute force his way into the system, but that ran the highest risk of detection. He could silently slip inside the mainframe, it would just take a little bit longer. It would be easier to erase his trail if he did it that way too, so he decided to run a slower program that chipped away at the security little by litter rather than one that took a sledgehammer to it.

Lines of code filled the screen to his left as Tim navigated himself to the main pathway of the GCPD server on the middle screen. The fact that he was able to access that part so easily told Tim exactly how lax the GCPD was at cyber security, almost anyone could stumble upon it, and all it would take was someone with rudimentary knowledge to have complete access to the entire GCPD mainframe.

The GCPD had protocols in place for a woman who could control plants, but their cyber security could be hacked by a seventeen-year-old high school student.

The GCPD firewall popped up on the screen to Tim’s right. He swiveled in his chair to face the screen on his left and launched the simple hacking program he’d created a few years back the first time he’d hacked into the Drake Industries mainframe. With a single click of the button, the program started to gently chip away at the GCPD firewall.

Tim laughed to himself as the image of several little digital zombies appeared on screen, their tiny mouths chomping away at the digital rendering of a firewall. It spoke of the frame of mind that Tim was in when he created the program, and he briefly thought about re-engineering it to something more mature, but then a tiny zombie on the screen rubbed its stomach and burped. It might not be the most professional, but damn if it didn’t make Tim smile just a bit.

The digital zombies made slow progress on the firewall, eating away at it until it was about halfway gone. Tim drummed his fingers against the desktop, reclining in his chair and letting his head drop against the headrest. He closed his eyes and thought back on everything that had happened last night.

He still almost couldn’t believe it was real. The first thing he’d done when he made it inside his apartment, after eating two sliced of pizza in under a minute, was google the Red Hood. There was nothing on a vigilante of that name, nothing at all aside from a few…fetishistic results. Whoever he was, he seemed to be a new player in town. The bat symbol on his chest spoke of a legacy, maybe he was someone who was trying to take over where Batman left off. He was too tall to be Robin, but Tim supposed it could have been Nightwing using a new outfit and going by a new moniker.

But that didn’t seem right either. The Red Hood was brutal, almost clinically efficient in the way he took down the two men who’d cornered Tim. But there was something else about him, a sort of simmering rage that Tim could feel lurking just under the surface. Whoever the Red Hood was, he was angry. An angry vigilante should be terrifying, you shouldn't necessarily want someone motivated by anger or revenge out there on the streets, but the Red Hood also watched over Tim, saved his life, waited for him to get pizza, and then trailed him home across the rooftops just to make sure he got home safe.

He also broke a guy’s hand in half before he threatened to touch Tim, so maybe the Red Hood was angry, but maybe a little anger was justified.

Tim had a bit anger inside of himself too.

Before he could dwell any further on that subject, Tim’s attention was drawn by a sound from one of the computers in front of him. He looked up towards the left screen and smiled when he saw his horde of digital zombies lying flat on their back with distended bellies, full from devouring the firewall.

The middle screen blinked once, and then Tim was inside the GCPD system.

Tim leaned back to stretch his body, and then hovered his hands over the keyboard. He didn’t even know where to start, wasn’t entirely sure what kind of information he wanted to find out, he just knew that there was something he wanted to know. Maybe he could find information on the Red Hood, if anyone had heard of him it would have to be the police.

It seemed that the GCPD had a keyword search built into their system, he tested it out by searching for mundane Gotham-like words, such as homicide or robbery.

“Now showing ten results of two-thousand-and-thirty-seven.” Tim read aloud to himself.

Well. At least the search worked.

Tim clicked into the search bar again, simply typing Red Hood and clicking execute. A few results populated the screen, but there was nothing that indicated a new vigilante. The only one that stuck out to Tim was a report from an older woman about a man wearing a red ski mask walking around at night, but Tim hardly thought they were connected.

He supposed that confirmed his theory, the Red Hood was a new player in town.

He decided to test it again, typing in Batman, Robin, and Nightwing’s names just to see what came up. The screen instantly populated with results of various natures.

“Hmm.” Tim hummed, tapping his finger against his lower lip, “Who are you?”

Who was the Red Hood? And why was Tim so focused on him?

Shaking his head, Tim clicked back to the main page of the GCPD system. He scrolled through the options until he found a link for active cases. Tim had another goal aside from looking for information on the Red Hood. He wanted to know what the police knew about the shooting at the school. School was canceled for at least the next week while they investigated and cleaned everything up, so Tim wouldn’t get any answers unless he sought them out himself.

According to the system, the GCPD ranked their cases internally by most pressing the least. The school shooting was second on the list, just below the bombing that killed Bruce Wayne and dozens of other people. And Batman, apparently.

Tim scanned through the various reports of the school shooting. When he got to the numbers, his jaw dropped in shock. Seven people died, four teachers and three students. There were nine shooters total, which didn’t match up with Tim’s count. He could only remember eight, and that number included the three women from the reception office. He scanned the reports again, finally realizing that Jason was wrong and that there was another shooter on their floor. The kid was in Stephanie’s classroom, but all the report said was that the shooter was neutralized before a shot could be fired.

Tim remembered how Stephanie looked when he saw her afterwards, remembered seeing her bloody knuckles. Did _Stephanie_ take the shooter down on her own?

There was no mention of Stephanie in any of the police reports, just like there weren’t any mentions of Tim, Jason, or Damian. That seemed weird to Tim, especially since Tim and Jason played a pretty significant role in stopping a lot of the attackers after the fact. The only line in the entire report that reflected any of their involvement simply read that _a group of students took unprecedentedly dangerous, yet admiral measures to protect the rest of the student body._

The report was signed by Commissioner James Gordon.

“Huh.” Tim chewed on his bottom lip.

Commissioner Gordon, and the school librarian was Ms. Gordon. His daughter? That would explain why the commissioner was there, and why he’d handled the police report himself. He was probably first on the scene, anxious to see if his daughter was OK.

But even if that was the case, why would he leave so much pertinent information out of the report? Surely it would come up in a trial, or there was even going to be one. How do you prosecute someone who, by all assumptions Tim could make, was being controlled by a creepy old song?

Ms. Gordon was dating Mr. Grayson, Jason, and Damian’s brother. Maybe they were all super close and Ms. Gordon asked them to keep Jason and Damian out of it on account of what happened to their father. The press was already all of this, they would be even more ravenous and blood thirsty if they knew that two of Bruce Wayne's surviving son's were so heavily involved. That made sense.

Sort of.

Tim kept scrolling, curious to find out what was being done with the suspects.

Five of the suspects were minors, they were being held at various stations around the city in general lock up. There were teams of psychologists working with them, and all of them said they had no knowledge of anything after they sat down at their desks and watched the morning announcements.

It was the same for the three women from the reception area. None of them could explain how they ended up with silenced pistols, none of them were registered gun owners, or had any kind of concealed carry permits. One of them was even against guns entirely, she wanted to make it illegal to own easily concealable pistols and assault weapons.

Everyone said the same thing, the morning was going along as normal, and then the song started to play and they had no memory until after they woke up handcuffed to a hospital bed.

The only person left was the larger man from the first-floor hallway. His name was apparently Terry Garrison, a career criminal who’d been in and out of Blackgate for the last ten years. They hadn’t been able to interview him yet, because he was at Gotham General in a medically induced coma with a breathing tube stuck down his throat.

_Holy hell, Jason._

The file hadn’t been updated recently, so that was the end of it.

Tim navigated back to the home screen again, this time clicking his way through the personnel files. The Commissioner was at the top, his name bolded to stick out from the rest of the staff. Maybe if he could access Commissioner Gordon’s personal files he could find something a little more useful.

Tim clicked the Commissioners name, and then opened up a few more screens until he found a pathway that would lead him to the Commissioners personal files. His mouse hovered over the link, and he only waited another second before clicking it.

He was immediately met with a red screen.

Access denied.

“Oh.” Tim whispered, “That’s interesting.”

Tim poked a little more, typing in a few commands that would normally find a way through such a roadblock. He launched a few bugs, tiny things that were set out to probe for weaknesses or flaws in security.

They all failed, each and every bug was swatted away as the screen flashed again.

Access denied.  

Tim leaned back in his chair, flexing his fingers and staring at the words on his screen. He supposed it wasn’t unfathomable that the Commissioner would have increased protection on his own personal files, but then why would he have the heavy-duty security while the rest of the police force had to rely on such a basic firewall. That thought alone was enough to peak his interest, but he didn’t feel like devoting anymore time to it today. He’d found as much information as he easily could, and Tim could tell that whatever protection Gordon had was a lot more sophisticated and would take more than a few hungry little zombies to eat through.

He decided to retire for the day, there were more important things to think about than Commissioner Gordon’s good cyber security. There was still so much he didn’t know about the attack at the school, and there wasn’t a straightforward way to figure it out.

He really, really wished he knew what happened when the other guy grabbed him, he wanted to know why Jason would go that far in defending him. He’d seen the way Jason could fight, saw the way Jason could take down someone else without breaking a sweat.

But whatever he’d done to the other guy, it just seemed so…angry.

Jason fought with anger.

Tim’s doorbell chimed, echoing through the apartment and stopping any train of thought he had going. He looked over his shoulder with a confused frown, who on earth could be at his door? It felt like the only person who knew where he lived was Mr. Collins, who Tim supposed could be at the door.

He closed out the screen, severing his connection with the GCPD server. He erased his digital fingerprint from the hack, running a small program in the background to even further scrub any trace of his intrusion. It was probably pointless, but a little extra caution never hurt anybody. He turned off the monitors, pushed himself away from the desk, and took his plate of cold pizza with him as he left the office.

He set the plate on the marble countertop in the kitchen before walking to the door, pushing himself up on the tips of his toes to see through the peephole of the door. He blinked several times, staring in confusion at the blonde hair on the other side of the door. Slowly, he took a step backwards and undid each deadbolt, pulling the door open.

“Stephanie?” Tim asked, cocking his head to the side.

“Wow.” Stephanie reared her head backwards, “You really do look like shit.”

Tim’s eyes went wide, “Uh, thanks?”

Stephanie laughed, “Sorry. It’s just when Mr. Collins said you looked bad, I didn’t think he meant-”

Stephanie waved an arm out in front of him, swiping up and down his body. Tim turned his head and looked at his reflection in the mirror hung on the wall across from the door, and he supposed he couldn’t be too mad at Stephanie because he did look terrible.

“You know Mr. Collins?” Tim asked, confused.

“Can I come in?” Stephanie asked, holding up a plastic bag that looked like it came from the deli around the corner, “I brought food.”

“Uh, sure.” Tim stepped to the side, letting Stephanie into the apartment before locking the door behind her, “I have pizza though.”

Old pizza. But still.

“More for me then.” Stephanie shrugged, “Damn, Tim. This place is crazy nice. I’ve never seen one of the upper floor units in person.”

“Thanks?” Tim trailed after her.

He didn’t see what was so special about the place. It was massive, but it was empty. Most of the furniture was impersonal, selected from a catalogue and placed in the apartment before he’d even moved in. There were only a few pieces of furniture that survived the massive clean out of his old house, the few pieces that Tim wanted to hold onto that didn’t make him think of blood and gunshots.

Stephanie dropped the bag on the counter, pulling out two sandwiches, a few bags of chips, and a six pack of soda. She moved around the kitchen like she owned the place, like she was meant to be there. She didn’t awkwardly fumble for anything like Tim did, and she didn’t need to ask where anything was. She just found it, even if it took a few extra seconds.

It was weird to have someone in his space after being alone for so long. It had been almost two years since he lived with another person, longer than that since he had a friend over to his house.

Stephanie lifted the lid of the pizza box and grimaced. She looked at the abandoned plate of half eaten pizza and then at Tim.

“Tim, sweetie, that pizza has seen better days.”

“It was good.” Tim said immediately, feeling the need to defend the honor of his cold and lifeless pizza.

Stephanie laughed, dumping the slice of pizza on his abandoned plate into the trashcan, “I’m sure it was very good when you got it _ten hours ago_. Eat a sub, it’s just a standard turkey and cheese but I promise it’s life changing.”

Stephanie pushed a new plate towards him, filled with half of one of the sandwiches and an opened bag of chips. Tim eyed it for a second, but decided it did look more appetizing than the cold, hard pizza. He took a bite, and then he let out something between a moan and a sigh.

Stephanie grinned, “That’s the same reaction everyone has when they try one of these for the first time. I’m not quite convinced that Mrs. Dretlze down the block doesn’t use black magic when she makes these, but I’m willing to overlook any blood sacrifices needed to create this goodness.”

“That’s nice to know.” Tim said after swallowing another bite of maybe black magic sandwich, “How do you know Mr. Collins?”

Stephanie looked up, “I live here, Tim.”

Tim blinked at her, “You do?”

Stephanie nodded slowly, “Yes. Apartment 12C.”

“I didn’t know that.”

Stephanie huffed out a laugh, rolling her eyes, “I don’t suppose you would. I tried to tell you after everything at school, I was gonna walk with you to make sure everything was OK, but you said you wanted to be left alone so I didn’t push it.”

“Oh.” Tim said, suddenly remembering everything, “Sorry. Um. Head injury and general trauma, I didn’t mean to be a dick.”

Stephanie smiled, “It’s totally fine. There was…a lot to deal with that day.”

“Yeah.” Tim echoed, “A lot.”

“Have you heard from Jason?” Stephanie asked.

Tim socked his head to the side, “Why would I hear from Jason? How would I hear from Jason?”

“Well, there’s an interesting invention called the cell phone.” Stephanie rolled her eyes again, “But I was just curious, you two seemed to hit it off. I’m not entirely sure if that pun was intended, fyi.”

“Oh.” Tim said, “I mean, I don’t think we’re friends or anything. It just kind of happened, and I didn’t want him to do anything alone. I don’t even remember much, honestly. I wouldn’t even know how to contact him, I didn’t exactly get his number before I got loaded into an ambulance.”

Tim’s phone buzzed on the counter. He looked over at Stephanie, and she was pointing at it.

“I just sent you his contact info. We had to do a project together freshman year, so we exchanged numbers, but it was a fucking nightmare, so we never really became friends after that. I don’t know if his number is still the same, but that’s at least a step in the right direction.”

Tim grabbed his phone and swiped it open, looking down at the new contact details that Stephanie shared with him. He eyed the message suspiciously before looking back up at her.

“Why do you care if I talk to Jason?” Tim asked.

“I don’t care.” Stephanie shrugged.

Tim raised an eyebrow at her.

“OK, fine.” Stephanie sighed, “I don’t think it would be the end of the world if he made a friend or two that isn’t a part of his family. He might be an asshole, but even assholes deserve a friend or two.”

“So you be his friend.” Tim said.

Stephanie shook her head, “I’m good, thanks. Besides, you guys have already bonded over mutual ass-kickery. And what better person to be his friend than someone who hasn't known him for years?”

Tim hummed, “For someone who doesn’t like Jason you’re sure invested in the job of making someone like him.”

“What can I say? I’m a kind, benevolent goddess who thinks people deserve the best, even if I personally don’t like them.”

“You’re weird is what you are.” Tim mumbled, finishing off his half of the sandwich.

“Says the guy who left pizza sitting on the counter all night and then tried to eat it again.”

Tim didn’t really have a comeback for that one, so he sat quietly and ate lunch with Stephanie.

“Also, your forehead is bleeding.” Stephanie said, pointing at Tim.

“Huh?” Tim asked, reaching up and dabbing his fingers along his forehead until he felt the sticky sensation of blood on his fingertips.

He must have hit his head in the alley at some point last night. He didn’t remember feeling any pain, but it was a busy night.

“Do you have a first aid kit?” Stephanie asked, pushing herself up from the stool she was perched on and walking over to Tim with a spare napkin.

Tim thought back to moving in and tried to remember where he stored the cheap plastic kit he’d bought after his first visit to the store. He hadn’t been sure how much cooking he was going to do for himself, and he wanted to be prepared for any accidents that could arise.

“Under the sink?” Tim hesitated, “I think?”

Stephanie turned, opening the cabinet under the sink, and then turning back to him with the plastic white kit in her hand. She held it up triumphantly before using one of her nails to slide through the thin cellophane wrapped around the box. She walked around the kitchen, dropping the kit in the center of the island they were eating at and then moving forward to stand in front of Tim.

She pulled out a disinfectant pad and swiped it across his forehead. Tim didn’t hiss when it stung, his pride was already wounded from letting Stephanie do as much as she was. Stephanie’s right hand dabbed at the cut on his forehead, and Tim noticed the scabbed knuckles on the hand again.

“What happened?” Tim asked, angling his eyes to her hand.

“Oh, this?” Stephanie laughed, flouring her hand in front of Tim’s face, “There was a girl with a gun in my classroom too, I saw her go for it when she got up and I kind of just hit her in the face with a right hook before she could do anything with it. I guess those kickboxing lessons that my mom insisted I sign up for finally came in handy.”

Tim laughed, “Guess I’m not the only one with a hero complex then?”

Stephanie stuck her tongue out at him, “I’m not the one who recreated Die Hard with Jason Todd in picture perfect fashion.”

“That’s not possible, it isn’t Christmas time.” Tim said, pointing out that little fact.

Stephanie flicked him on the tip of his nose, “Of course you’d point out the most minute detail.”  

Tim sat silently as Stephanie pulled out a Band-Aid, unwrapped it, and slapped it over the cut on his head. He didn’t know why he let her do it, it was something he easily could have handled himself, but it felt nice to not have to worry about doing something on his own. Tim so rarely gave away control, he forgot how freeing it could feel to let go and let someone else take over.

Stephanie was abrasive, but Tim liked her. He could use a little abrasiveness in his life, if he was being completely honest. Stephanie smiled, and Tim thought he wouldn’t mind having her as an actual friend as she smoothed out the bandage one final time.

Friends were something new to Tim, but Tim always tried to challenge himself with new things.

So when Stephanie turned her back to throw away the used scraps from the first aid kid, Tim quickly saved Jason’s contact details into his phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me writing hacker tim or oracle: lol hacking tap tap tap keyboard lines of green code the matrix firewall lol
> 
> hope you enjoyed!


	6. Brother

 

 

 

 

Six

Brother

 

Jason figured it was probably time to leave the rooftop when the sight of Stephanie Brown leaning over Tim and running her fingers across his face made his blood boil. He was two seconds away from grappling across the gap, landing on Tim’s balcony, and kicking his way through the heavy sliding glass door.

He didn’t particularly have a good relationship with Stephanie, not after that disastrous pairing during their Freshman year. Jason still maintained that he didn’t purposely sit on their mess of a diorama for their English final, and Stephanie still swears he did it on to be a dick.  They’d barely spoken in the years since.

He watched as Stephanie opened a white plastic box and pulled something out of it. Upon further inspection, the box was a first-aid kit. Jason quickly realized what she was doing, and he wanted to kick himself for not realizing Tim was injured last night. Or rather, not making sure Tim realized he was injured. Jason had seen the cut on his head, but Tim acted like he never even noticed it.

Which, from what Jason could tell about Tim Drake so far, he probably didn't.

He watched from afar as Stephanie disinfected the cut on his head, then as she brushed away strands of Tim’s stray hair. She smoothed her finger along his forehead, pressing a band-aid in its wake. She gave him one last look, tapped him on the tip of the nose, and smiled.

Something flared inside Jason, but it wasn’t anything he wanted to put a name to.

Tim smiled back at Stephanie, and Jason turned away from the window. He couldn’t help but feel like a stalker, like the fact that he was ostensibly spying on Tim from the top of a building across from him with the use of specially designed vigilante gear was just as creepy and invasive as it sounded. He walked to the opposite edge of the roof, kicking his boot against the ledge, and craned his neck over the side.

Gotham always looked so small from the rooftops. It was one of the things that Jason loved about being Robin, he loved swinging around at night with Batman, looking down on the big city that held even bigger problems. Everything seemed more manageable from the rooftops, because even the larger than life crimes looked small from up above.

He looked over his shoulder at Tim’s apartment, but neither Tim or Stephanie were near the window any longer. He dropped down on the ledge, dangling his feet over the side of the building as he reached up and undid the hood. He pulled it off, cracking his neck as the sunlight washed over his face. He placed the red hood on the roof next to him, content with the domino mask in place to still hide his identity.

The comm link in his ear chirped, signaling an incoming call. Jason reached up, tapped it with the tip of his index finger, and closed his eyes.

“Hello?”

Oracle’s voice came through, “Good afternoon, Hood.”

Jason paused, it was weird to hear Barbara refer to him as such on their comm link. He’d spent so much time as Robin, it would take a little bit more time to adjust himself to the new name.

“How’s is hanging, O?” Jason asked, smirking.

He could almost hear Oracle rolling her eyes, “I take it that based on your location you’re visiting a friend from school?”

Jason looked down at the hood, glaring at the hidden tracker inside of it, “Just stopped by to make sure the idiot didn’t get murdered in his sleep or something.”

“Aw, how sweet.” Oracle cooed.

Jason rolled his eyes, “Watch it.”

Oracle laughed, “I’m actually being serious, I think it’s nice that you wanted to check in on him.”

Jason ignored her, he was the opposite of sweet. You’d be hard pressed to find anyone in Gotham City that would refer to Jason Todd as _nice_ or _sweet_.

“Did you call for a reason, or just to talk about feelings?” Jason snapped.

Oracle was quiet for a moment, and Jason knew Barbara well enough to know that she was currently pinching the bridge of her nose and taking a deep breath. It was a reaction he’d drawn out of her countless times over the years.

“I actually called to talk about your friend from school.”

Jason groaned, looking back over his shoulder at Tim’s building, “Oh no, what is it? Who’s trying to kill him now?”

Oracle laughed, “It’s actually about what he was doing.”

Jason arched an eyebrow, cocking his head to the side, “Continue.”

“He hacked the GCPD server.” Oracle said, sounding slightly impressed.

“Wait, what?” Jason blinked, looking down at the ground below.

“I was halfway through my workout when I got an alert that someone was hacking the GCPD system, I set something up a few years ago just so I’d know if anyone was fishing for things, but this was the first time it’s ever been tripped.” Oracle said, “He was doing quite a bit of digging.”

“About?” Jason asked.

“Well, he was certainly interested in finding out if there was any information of the Red Hood.” Oracle said, “You were his first search in the records.”

Shit.

“Shit.” Jason mumbled, “Anything?”

“No.” Oracle said, “The official police report for the incident with the False Face members wasn’t filed until after he logged out of the server, the first of the guys you took down just regained consciousness a few hours ago.”

“How’s his hand?” Jason asked with a grin.

Oracle sighed, “By all accounts, irreparable.”

“A shame.” Jason hummed, “What else was he looking for?”

“He ran some searches for the rest of the Bats, but all that shows is general stuff they’ve been involved in.” Oracle paused, “He’s also looking into what happened at the school.”

Jason let out a frustrated breath, “Does this kid know when to stop? What’s next? Is he gonna try to solve B’s death too?”

“I told you he was smart, Hood.” Oracle said, “He figured out the thing with the song before I could, who knows what could have happened if he didn’t.”

Jason scoffed, “He’s so smart he almost got his head twisted off that overgrown psycho.”

Oracle sighed, “The point is that he knows whatever was happing at the school wasn’t a random act of violence, it’s natural for him to be curious about it knowing what he does. I’m losing sleep over trying to figure it out myself.”

“Yeah, well that’s your job.” Jason said, pushing himself up from the ground.

“Regardless.” Oracle said.

“Yeah, yeah.” Jason put the hood back on, fastening it into place, “I’m heading back.”

“See you soon.” Oracle said, “I’ll be nearby, yell if you need me.”

“Sure.” Jason said, disconnecting the comm link entirely.

He knew Oracle could remotely turn it back on if there was an emergency, but she was usually good about giving him some privacy when he really wanted it. He turned on his heel and walked back towards Tim’s apartment building. The living room was still empty, and he couldn’t see through any of the other windows in the apartment.

Jason hiked his leg up on the side of the roof, resting his hand on his knee, “What are you up to in that shiny tower, Little Prince?”

With one final look at the apartment, Jason turned and sprinted towards the opposite end of the roof. He jumped up on the ledge swiftly, barely taking a moment to find his footing before pushing off and letting his body fall over the side. He closed his eyes, feeling the wind rush past him, and at the last minute he aimed the grapple gun upwards towards the closest building. The line went from slack to taut in half a second, jerking Jason out of his free fall and snapping him up towards the next building.

He could hear Bruce’s voice in his head, that thick Batman rasp telling him he was being reckless.

It was funny, Jason realized, the things you didn’t know you missed until they were gone.

The trip back to the Clocktower was uneventful, not even a mugging around for Jason to blow off some steam. He dropped down behind the Clocktower, disappearing behind the discreetly walled off portion of the alley so no one could see him access the hidden elevator that Barbara had installed almost overnight a few months ago.

Jason liked the Clocktower more than the Bat Cave. Using the Clocktower as a base was almost comical, it was something that people walked by every single day, and none of those people would ever have any idea of what was going on inside.

Jason pressed his hand against a random brick in the wall, which made a small beeping sound as it verified his identity. A moment later, the brick wall in front of him slide to the side and revealed a shiny metal elevator. Jason stepped inside, punched the button for the top floor, and removed the hood as soon as the door slid shut behind him. He leaned back against the wall to wait as the elevator made its ascent.

The elevator slowed to a stop, and Jason pushed himself off the wall. The door opened, and he came face-to-face with Dick.

Dick stood in front of the elevator, his arms crossed over his chest. His neck was flushed red, which meant he’d either been making out with Barbara or fighting with her, the odds were about 50/50 either way. He arched an eyebrow when he saw Jason, his eyes pointedly flickering down to the hood cradled under his arm.

“Hey, Jay.” Dick said, “Or should I say, Red Hood?”

“Seriously?” Jason groaned, “What are you doing here, Dickface?”

Jason pushed his way past Dick, dropping the hood off on top of the table before shrugging off his leather jacket. Barbara was off to the side, her hair pulled up into a high ponytail.

Jason glared at her, “You didn’t think to give me a warning?”

“Don’t blame me, he barged in here when I was working out.” Barbara pointed to the salmon ladder in the corner of the room, “I didn’t have a chance to warn you.”

“God, I hate when you two conspire with each other.” Dick glared at them.

“We’re not conspiring.” Jason and Barbara said at the same time.

Jason huffed out a laugh as Dick glared at them.

Dick walked over to the display case and pointed at the Red Hood, “Seriously? No one thought to tell me about this? I had to find out from the Bat Computer?”

“What?” Jason asked, running a hand through his hair as he peeled off the domino mask, “I don’t have to tell you anything in the first place.”

“The computer flags reports of anything Bat related, and it just flagged a police report about a Bat in a red helmet that reportedly shattered some guys hand, broke his elbow, and shot another one in the back. I came over to ask Barbara if she knew anything, and I find this.” Dick pointed to the suit that was now displayed in the case next to the classic Batgirl suit.

“First of all, I wasn’t the me who broke his elbow.” Jason pointed out, “And I shot him in the back with a rubber bullet, it’s not my fault he’s dramatic. And you literally throw razor sharp blades at people, you’re the last person who should be lecturing anyone on dangerous projectiles.”

Dick said something in reply, but Jason wasn’t listening to him. His eye was drawn by the display case and the outfit that was housed inside of it.

It was the full Red Hood suit.

Barbara had applied a permanent Bat symbol on the chest, and the blood red color stood out brilliantly against the sheen of the black armor. The chest piece was attached to a full body suit, lightly armored pants to replace the simple combat pair that he’d worn the previous night. Both guns sat in the holsters attached to the armored leggings, and the silver and red utility belt gleamed under the light.

The jacket Barbara mentioned was draped over the shoulder. The brown leather contrasted perfectly against the dark armor, and Jason could see the hints of red at the backs of the cuffs of the sleeves. Heavy black boots sat at the foot of the display. Jason grabbed the hood off the table, punched in the code to open the display case, and fit the hood over the head of the display mannequin.

It looked…perfect. It was everything that Jason expected it to be, and even more beyond that.

Jason turned to Barbara and smiled, “This is amazing.”

“I knew you’d like it.” Barbara smiled back.

“I don’t understand, Jason.” Dick said, drawing him out of the happiness of the moment, “I thought you were done with all of this?”

Jason scoffed, “I was never done, Dick. Bruce was done with me, but I wasn’t done. I never stopped wanting to do this. Even after everything that happened.”

Dick briefly flinched at that, but it didn’t feel like a victory. He walked over to the case, standing next to Jason and leaning in to look at the suit.

“Is this about Bruce?” Dick asked quietly, “You left, and I thought you were never coming back. And now he’s dead and you’re running around wearing that.”

“This is about me.” Jason turned to face him, “I was always going to come back, Dick. I was going to do this even if Bruce was still alive.”

Barbara came to a stop on the opposite side of Dick, “Jason and I have been going back and forth with the designs for the last few months.”

“You two have been talking for _months_?” Dick stepped away from both of them, he looked accusingly at Barbara, “I can’t believe you didn’t say anything to me.”

“I told-” Barbara cut Jason off.

“It wasn’t my place to say anything, Dick.” Barbara said, “Jason came to me and asked me for help, and I made the executive decision to not tell you, or Bruce, or anyone. I’m no one’s Batgirl anymore, I don’t have to tell anyone anything that I don’t want to.”

“He’s my brother who almost _died_ , Babs.” Dick shook his head, “You know how much it was killing me that he was gone. You should have told me.”

“I know you were hurting,” Barbara said softly, “but it wasn’t about you, Dick. It was about Jason and what he wanted, and what he needed.”

“I asked her not to tell you.” Jason finally added, “I knew if she told you, you’d tell B, and then he would track me down to try and stop me.”

“He just wanted you to be safe.” Dick said softly, turning to Jason, “We all do.”

“Yeah, well, look how good that did him.” Jason scoffed.

Dick flinched again, but this time it was almost a full body recoil. It was a low blow, they both knew it.

“Dammit, Jason.”

Jason startled as he felt a hand on back. He looked down a Barbara, she smiled at him and nodded. It was a silent show of support that Jason appreciated. She was probably one of the only people in the world who understood how he felt, who knew how it felt to love, respect, and resent all at once the man who brought them into this life.

“I’ll let you two talk alone.” Barbra said, she stopped next to Dick and grabbed his hand, kissing one of the scars on his knuckles, “I’ll be downstairs if you want to talk after.”

Dick nodded, leaning down to kiss the crown of her head, “Yeah. OK.”

Barbara disappeared behind the doors of the elevator a moment later, and then it was just Dick and Jason alone in the Clocktower. Jason waited, deciding to let Dick make the first move. A bit of guilt crept up his shoulders from the comment about Bruce, so he figured it would be safer if Dick took the lead.

“Were you going to tell me?” Dick asked as he pointed to the Red Hood suit behind the case.

Jason nodded, “Yeah. Eventually.”

Dick laughed, a slightly bitter sound, “Eventually.”

“I was going to tell you after all that shit at school.” Jason glared at him, “But then you got mad about everything, so I figured you could go fuck yourself for a bit.”

Dick clenched his fists for a moment before dragging his fingers through his hair and pulling at it slightly, “I got mad because you almost killed that guy, Jay. If Damian hadn’t been able to pull you off him, I’m scared you actually might have.”

Jason had to admit that he didn’t have much of a memory of the whole thing. The last thing Jason remembered was turning to see Tim’s entire head being held in that guys hand, and watching as he slowly twisted it. Tim looked so helpless, and Jason had felt such an intense wave of rage that he’d launched himself at the guy and all but blacked out. He saw himself when he looked at Tim that day, and his body had gone into overdrive to try and stop it.  The next thing Jason knew, Damian’s arms were wrapped around him as he was pulled to the ground, and Jason’s hands were covered in blood.

It kickstarted one of the biggest fights he’d ever had with Dick, it was so bad he almost felt like he was arguing with Bruce again. He was lucky that Gordon was there and that they were able to spin it as another attack at the school, but Dick was stuck alternating between anger and disappointment.

And what was Jason supposed to tell him? That he’d felt so much rage since everything with the Joker? That he was so angry all the time? That he knew exactly how it felt to be killed? That he knew how it felt to wake up in a pitch-black coffin buried six feet underground?

Or should he tell Dick how it felt to claw his way out of his own grave, only to find the Joker standing over him with a twisted grin on his face, a video camera in one hand, and a crowbar in the other?

Dick didn’t understand how he felt, and Jason didn’t know how to explain it to him without hurting him even more than he already had.

“Outside.” Was all Jason said before he turned and walked towards the back of the Clocktower.

He made his way towards the giant clock face, winding his way around Oracle’s computers until he made it to a small door next to the clock itself. He opened the door and sunlight shone through as Jason stepped out onto the balcony of the tower. He left the door open for Dick and walked towards the edge of the balcony, leaning forward and resting his arms on top of the stone railing.

He felt rather than saw Dick stop next to him, he was too focused on looking out at the city in front of him. He felt like he’d spent an inordinate amount of time staring at Gotham from high places today, but he couldn’t say that he minded it.

“It used to piss me off so much when you and Babs teamed up against me when you were younger.” Dick laughed.

Jason arched an eyebrow and turned towards Dick, “Used to?”

Dick rolled his eyes, “I’m not pissed, just…hurt. I wish you trusted me enough to tell me things. I know I’m not perfect, and our family is more than a little messed up, but you’re still my little brother and I love you.”

“Geez, Dickie. Laying it on a little thick, don’t you think?” Jason asked, awkwardly rubbing the back of his head.

Dick loved a good emotional conversation, and to Jason it always felt like pulling teeth without Novocain. It had been eight years since Jason was adopted, but there were still things deeply ingrained in him from his previous life. Jason’s childhood home wasn’t a place where people talked about their feelings, and the dirty streets of Gotham certainly weren’t either.

“Shut up.” Dick elbowed him in the side, “I never get to talk to you like this. Sometimes I worry that you and Damian don’t know how much I care about you, you’re both my annoying, demented, twisted, lovable little brothers, and we might not be blood, but we are Bats and that’s as good as the same thing to me.”

The last line started a laugh out of Jason, “Oh my god. How long have you been waiting to use that line?”

Dick turned his head away, mumbling, “At least three years.”

They fell into silence after that. It wasn’t awkward, or even tense, but Jason could tell that Dick was waiting on him to acknowledge any of what he’d just said. It was hard for Jason, emotional constipation aside, because he hated the look that Dick got on his face when they talked about what happened.

Dick always looked guilty, like there was something he could have done different to save Jason. Jason hated it, he could barely deal with his own guilt from the whole thing, he couldn’t shoulder Dick’s too.

“I know you love me, OK.” Jason gritted out between clenched teeth, one specific word weighing heavy on his tongue, “It’s exactly why I couldn’t tell you until it was already done. You were with Bruce when he wanted to fire me, all of you were. One terrible thing happened to me, and you were ready to send me out to pasture like you all tried to do with Babs all those years ago.”

Dick’s hands gripped the stone railing, white knuckled, “Of course I didn’t want you out there anymore, Jay. We thought you were dead for almost two months!”

“But I wasn’t dead!” Jason yelled, “I was alive, and you got me back I was fine, and the second I could walk again you cut off my access to the cave, to the computer, to fucking everything! You all made that house impossible to live in, I felt like I was some fucked up doll you guys were trying to keep from being damaged again!”

“Jay, you’d barely healed, and you were already starting to talk about going back out on patrols. It wasn’t healthy, it should have been the last thing on your mind after what happened.”

“Don’t fucking tell me what should have been on my mind, Dick!” Jason slapped his had down on the railing, “You want to talk about what happened? While you, B, and the demon were out prowling in the night, I was stuck at home in a room by myself with nothing to think about but what happened to me. I thought I saw him in the corners of my room all the time, I’d scream, and scream, and scream until Alfred came to me. I’d wake up in the middle of the night in my dark fucking room and think I was in the coffin he made me dig my way out of again!”

Dick opened his mouth, but Jason cut him off by shoving him in the chest.

“I needed something to take my mind off of everything, something else to focus on, and you and Bruce took it away from me! You think that video the Joker sent you was bad? The one where he killed me the first time? That doesn’t compare to anything that happened after the camera stopped rolling. He fucking killed me twice, Dick. He killed me, and just when I thought I was going to be free from all the fucking pain he was tormenting me with, he brought my ass back. I can still feel the paddles on my chest sometime, Damian shocked me accidentally with static electricity a few weeks ago and I almost had a panic attack. I know I’m fucked up, Dick. I know, OK? But I need this, I need to do something other than sitting around and hoping that I can sleep at night without thinking of being torn apart by a fucking crazy ass clown.”

Jason’s heart was pounding out of his chest when he finished. His hands were shaking, but he avoided looking at them so he wouldn’t feel weak because of it. He took a deep breath, opened his eyes, and crumbled when he looked at Dick.

Dick was wrecked, there were tears spilling down his face, and his expression was a look of pure horror. It was the exact look that Jason never wanted to see on his face, the one he’d wanted to go to his grave again without being responsible for.

“Jay…” Dick whispered, “I’m so sorry, Jaybird.”

The nickname did it. Dick hadn’t called him that in years, it hit him like a punch to the gut. He slumped forward and didn’t put up a fight when Dick’s arms circled around him and pulled him close. Jason hated hugs, hated feeling restricted, and any other time he’d push Dick away, but Jason just relaxed into the embrace. Dick’s body was shaking, which meant he was still crying, so Jason slowly, and hesitantly, lifted his arms and held onto Dick’s back.

“God, we fucked up.” Dick whispered, “I fucked up. Bruce and I were so worried about not being able to take care of you in the field, we didn’t stop to think about taking care of you at home. I’m so sorry, Jay. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, that you had to leave because I couldn’t help you.”

“I don’t need help,” Jason murmured, his head tucked against Dick’s neck, “I just need you to trust me with this.”

Dick nodded, pushing him backwards and holding him by the shoulders as he looked into Jason’s eyes, “I do.”

Jason arched an eyebrow, and Dick let out a watery laugh.

“OK, OK.” Dick let go of him and wiped his eyes, “I’ll _start_ trusting you, Jason.”

“Thank you.” Jason nodded and took a step away from Dick, returning to his spot that overlooked the city.

He felt an odd sense of calm settle over him. It was the first time he’d talked to anyone but Barbara or Alfred about what happened, about how scared and angry he’d been, and it felt…good to get it off his chest. He’d been protecting Dick from the truth for so long that it was hurting Jason himself in the long run. Telling Dick felt like letting go of something that was holding him down.

Jason didn’t want to think about how he’d never know what it felt like to tell Bruce.

Dick leaned against the railing so his back was to the skyline, “So, the Red Hood?”

“Yep.” Jason nodded, “Looks bad ass, doesn’t it?”

“Wasn’t the Red Hood what the Joker started as?” Dick asked hesitantly.

“Fuck him.” Jason spat, “Fuck him and his stupid name, I want him to hear about me, hear about how someone took what he started, and turned it around to help people. It’ll torture him, drive the bastard crazy not knowing someone else is under the hood. It’s better than any revenge I could think of.”

Dick nodded, “And if it happens to piss him off enough to break out of Arkham and come after you…”

Jason turned to Dick, a feral grin on his face, “Then I’ve got plenty of plans with his name on them”

Dick’s face turned thunderous, “You tell me the time and place and I’ll be there to back you up, Hood.”

Jason nodded, “Thanks, Nightwing.”

A small smile bloomed on Dick’s face before he pushed off the railing and walked back towards the Clocktower. Jason followed behind him, watching as Dick made his way to the display case. It was still open from before, so Dick stepped up to it and trailed his fingers across the chest piece.

They lingered over the Bat symbol.

“It looks good in red.” Dick said softly, “I think Bruce would like it.”

“It was Babs’ idea. I didn’t want to do it at first.” Jason admitted, “But with B gone…I don’t know, it felt right.”

Dick turned to face him, “Like there should be a Bat in Gotham.”

“Yeah.” Jason said, “Exactly.”

Jason assumed Dick didn’t know about the new Batgirl, so he didn’t mention her, he figured he’d leave that to Barbara.

“I’ve been thinking…” Dick trailed off.

Jason huffed out a laugh, “That sounds dangerous.”

Dick rolled his eyes, “I was _thinking_ , it’s only a matter of time until people start to speculate more about what happened to Batman.”

“They think he’s dead.” Jason said, “He is dead.”

“Bruce is dead, but people don’t know that Batman was Bruce.” Dick leaned his hit against the table he was next to, “I’m worried that people will start speculating, putting two-and-two together and connect B to Batman. They only think Batman is dead because that imposter went into the building, but they still haven’t found a body. Gordon is keeping things quiet, but the longer it goes on the more people will start to come up with their own theories.”

“And if people even start speculating that Bruce was Batman, it will make people take a closer look at us.”

Dick nodded, “It’s not much of a logical leap, honestly.”

“So what do you want to do about it?” Jason asked, “Build a Bat-bot?”

Dick laughed, “Not exactly…”

“Wait.” Jason blinked as it dawned on him, “You want to be Batman?”

Dick ducked his head, “I mean, someone has to, don’t they? It’s not like we can recruit from the outside, Damian’s too young, and I assume you don’t want to do it either.”

“Fuck no.” Jason said, “I don’t want the wings.”

“Exactly.” Dick said, “There’s not really anyone left then, except for me.”

“You’re serious, aren’t you.”

Dick nodded.

Jason took a step back, dropping down into the closest seat near him. He hadn’t put too much thought in what the public might think once Batman was officially gone, and he certainly hadn’t thought abut any of the Robin’s taking on the cowl.

“Alfred thinks it’s a good idea.” Dick said, like it was a perfect defense.

Which.

It was.

Jason laughed, “Well, if Alfred thinks so.”

“I haven’t brought it up with Damian.” Dick said, “I’m honestly a little afraid of how he’s going to react.”

Jason hummed. That could be a tricky one. Damian idolized Bruce, and he idolized Batman even more. He’d been so reserved since Bruce’s death; the smallest thing could finally set him off into unleashing all his pent-up anger and sadness. Dick taking over as Batman seemed like the type of thing that could light that fuse.

“Will you be there when I tell him?” Dick asked, “It would mean a lot to me if you were.”

Jason let that request ride for a moment, shocked at how easily Dick asked him. It was rare for Dick to ask for help like this, especially if that help was Jason’s _support_. Still, Jason didn’t think Dick taking over was a terrible idea, and if he was going to support him as Red Hood, he could support Dick as Batman.

“Yeah, Dickie. I’ll play bodyguard for you.” Jason smiled.

“Asshole.” Dick laughed, “Does that mean you’re coming back to the Manor?”

Jason hesitated, “Maybe in a day or two, I want to get a few patrols under my belt with the suit on. It’ll be easier to have Babs nearby to work out any kinks. You gonna go out as Nightwing tonight?”

Dick nodded, “Dami and I were planning on it.”

“OK.” Jason said, “Meet me here? We can all go out together?”

Dick smiled, “OK. Damian’s going to have a lot to say about your outfit.”  

Jason rolled his eyes, “He can bite me.”

“I’m sure he’ll try.”

Jason cracked his knuckles on the table, “I could always just shoot him.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not much (lol any) jason and tim in the chapter, but it was also mostly just supposed to b about jason and dick, as well as giving you a few answers about this universes version of a death in the family. jason died, but he was never put in the pit, joker just killed him and brought him back cuz he's evil as fuck. and now jason is just an angry boy but not a magically homicidal angry boy.


	7. Rain

 

 

Seven

Rain

 

“Batman returns!”

Tim paused, looking over his shoulder towards the TV in the living room. He pulled his bottle of water out from the fridge, and turned to walk into the living room. The news was once again playing on the TV, and Tim briefly wondered if he ever watched anything other than it. Not that Tim actually watched TV in the first place, the TV was mainly on to add sound to the empty apartment.

Tim settled himself on the couch, twisting the cap off his bottled water and taking a sip as he watched the screen in front of him.

“The speculation over Batman’s apparent death was put to rest late last night as the Caped Crusader took to the streets once again. In a dramatic eleventh-hour appearance, Batman entered the fray during a tense armed standoff between the GCPD and a local gang who were holding residents of an East End apartment complex hostage.”

The image on the screen switched from the anchor to what looked like a video from the previous night. It was a shaky video, a cell phone most likely, that showed Batman standing on the ledge of a neighboring building before gliding down and breaking through one of the windows of the apartment building.

The screen switched back to the anchor, “Batman was widely believed to have been killed in the tragic explosion that rocked Gotham, killing Bruce Wayne and dozens of other citizens. It appears that Batman is just fine though, as this rare prolonged video captured from the scene last night proves that the Bat isn’t any worse for wear.”

The screen switched back to the same video from before. Three gang members were tossed out of different windows of the apartment building, crashing down onto the street before quickly being cuffed and hauled away by the Police. Batman broke through a fourth window, backflipping out and down onto the street just as the front door of the complex burst open. Batman dove to the side as several gang members opened fire, and the person that was recording the video dove to the ground, pushing themselves behind a parked car.

Tim scoffed, shaking his head before taking another gulp of water. Only in Gotham City would a person risk their life to get a video of Batman during an actual shootout. Though, given the area of town it wouldn’t surprise Tim if the person who recorded the video was hoping for some kind of payout for the footage, he wondered if the video that proved Batman wasn’t dead had a high price attached to it.

“Batman wasn’t alone though,” the woman on the screen smiled, “he was joined by Robin and a surprising newcomer who hasn’t been seen in Gotham before last night.”

Tim leaned forward, suddenly far more interested. The newcomer couldn’t be the Red Hood, could it?

The video once again switched back to the action from last night. The person recording edged around the car and stuck the camera out just in time to see Robin swing onto the scene. He dropped down from his grapple-line, unsheathing his sword as he fell to the ground. Tim rolled his eyes as Robin brandished his sword, Gotham was weird, but it felt like there should be more people talking about the insanity of an apparent child carrying around a katana. Regardless of Tim’s opinion, Robin flipped the sword in his hand, slicing it across the barrel of the gang members shotgun. The gun slid apart, two pieces falling in opposite directions just as Robin drove the hilt of his sword into the gang members’ face. He jumped onto a nearby railing, perching on it like a cat, and then launched himself off the screen at an unseen attacker.

Batman rolled back onto the screen, literally. He rolled forward, springing up from the ground and slamming his fist into the underside of another gang members jaw. The gang member fell backwards towards the ground, and Batman flipped to the side with his cape billowing behind him as more gunshots rung out.

Tim arched an eyebrow, Batman was far more…mobile than he remembered ever seeing. Granted, there were hardly any videos of Batman available, and the ones that were only lasted a few seconds. Batman seemed to consciously avoid cameras most of the time, but this looked to Tim like Batman was…performing for the camera. Maybe it was just his way of letting Gotham know he was alive, that the rumors of his death had been greatly exaggerated.

Maybe.

The sound of gunshots drew Tim’s attention back to the screen. These ones sounded different, hollower, and less explosive. He watched as two gang members stumbled backwards, falling to the ground and clutching their chests. The camera swung around to reveal the Red Hood, holding two of the same pistols he’d had the night Tim met him.

The Red Hood looked a different though, the costume wasn’t exactly what he’d had on the other night. The black leather jacket was replaced with a brown one that looked a lot less worn out, the baggy pants were replaced with something a lot more form fitting, and the Bat symbol on his chest no longer looked hastily spray painted on.

The only thing that was the same was the Hood, the Hood and its unblinking white eyes.

Red Hood fired off another shot, hitting a gang member in the center of his throat. He fell to the ground, clutching as his throat as if he was struggling to breathe. There was no blood, so Tim assumed he was still using the rubber bullets.

Batman and Robin were fighting in the background, but the only person Tim could focus on was the Red Hood. He grabbed a gang member by the face, kicked his feet out from under him, and slammed his head into the ground. The move was familiar, reminiscent of one Tim had seen multiple times now.

Red Hood flipped the guns in his hands, spinning them around with his finger through the trigger guards. He cracked his neck as two gang members approached him, and he held both guns with his hands wrapped around the barrel so that the grip and magazine were facing upwards and outwards. Something sparked on the gun, blue lights flashing across the bottoms of both guns’ magazines.

Tim leaned forward to get a better look at the TV just as Red Hood swung the grip of the gun towards the gang member. It connected with the side of his face, and the gang member immediately fell to the ground in a heap of twitching limbs. The second one lunged at Red Hood, swinging a baseball bat towards his head. Red Hood danced backwards, easily dodging the blow. The Red Hood kicked the gang member in the stomach, swung the grip of the gun around, hitting the bat and disarming the attacker, and then hit him with an uppercut from the second gun, the sparking blue part of the magazine hitting the gang member below the chin.

Electricity, Tim thought. His guns doubled as tasers.

The second gang member joined the first on the ground, both of them still twitching. The Red Hood flipped both guns back around, shoving them into their holsters.

The Red Hood looked directly into the camera, and the video feed abruptly cut to black. It faded back to the news anchor, looking far too excited for all the violence she’d just broadcast to anyone watching.

“We don’t have a name for the new vigilante that joined Batman and Robin, but sources within the department confirmed that the guns he was using only fired off non-lethal crowd control bullets. That’s all the information we have for you now, we’re going to take a quick break and then we’ll be back with the weather.”

The program cut out, transitioning into a commercial for cat food. Tim sank back into the couch, drumming his fingers against the side of the water bottle. Something seemed off about the whole thing, but Tim didn’t exactly know why he was putting so much thought into it. Whatever was going on with Batman had nothing to do with him, and regardless of the fact that he was saved by the Red Hood, it never would.

Tim’s phone chimed, he hopped up from the couch and walked back to the kitchen. His phone was flashing, and he picked it up to find a notification of a text from Stephanie on the screen. Before he could even read the text, his eyes caught sight of the time and he nearly dropped his phone in his hurry to run back to his bedroom.

He’d completely forgotten about the promise he’d made to visit his dad today. Tim missed their visit last week. He’d been too busy getting everything together for school that it slipped his mind, two separate nurses called him to tell him his dad was being…difficult after the fact.

He quickly changed into something more presentable than sweatpants and a wrinkled shirt, ran a hand through his hair to smooth it down, grabbed everything he needed, and dashed out to the elevator. The ride down was quick, and Mr. Collins wasn’t working today so there was no need for him to stop and make any conversation.

Tim’s stomach dropped when he stepped outside and looked at the sky, a blanket of angry black storm clouds covered the sky as far as Tim could see. A crack of thunder rolled through the sky, followed by a wicked bolt of lightning a few seconds later. It wasn’t raining yet, but it wouldn’t be long before the sky opened up.

“Fuck.” Tim pinched the bridge of his nose.

He supposed he could call a car, or maybe flag down a cab if he was lucky, but both of those would take extra time that Tim didn’t have. Sure, he could be late, but Tim didn’t want to put the poor nurses in the facility through another round of anxious and pissed off Jack Drake.

He could just walk, even if it rained he would still make it there faster than he would if he took the time to get a car. It wouldn’t matter of he was soaked to the bone when he got there, his dad probably wouldn’t even notice. All that mattered to his dad was that Tim came to visit him when he said he did.

Tim didn’t want to chance not making it on time, so he scuffed his foot against the sidewalk once before he set off in the direction of Gotham Memorial Medical Plaza. Maybe he would look into buying a car after the visit, depending on what kind of mood he was in afterwards.

About a block from his apartment, a familiar voice drew Tim’s attention. Well, it wasn’t so much the voice as it was what the voice _said_.

“Yo, short stack.”

Tim stopped walking, looked to his right, and saw Jason leaning against a car with a cigarette dangling between his fingers. His hair was pushed back, the white shock of bangs standing out against the rest of his black hair. He was in dark jeans and a white shirt, his knee extended as he propped his foot on the back tire of the vehicle.

The sleek black town car contrasted with Jason’s nonchalance. The Wayne Enterprises logo was pasted on the side, and Tim briefly through back to his own childhood. He’d ridden around in cars like that for years, the only difference was trading out the Wayne Enterprises logo for Drake Industries. He’d spent countless hours leaning his head against the window, watching the world go by outside as he listened to his mother and father conduct business, which normally meant them yelling into their cell phones.

“You there?”

Tim blinked, his eyes focusing on Jason again, “Huh?”

Jason arched an eyebrow as he lifted his hand and took a slow drag from the cigarette, he kept his eyes locked on Tim the entire time, even as he exhaled a cloud of smoke, “You were staring. Am I that good to look at?”

Jason flashed a cocky smile, and it took every bit of self-control that Tim had not to fall into it, “Totally. That whole Rebel Without a Cause thing you’ve got going on really suits you.”

Jason licked his lips, and then deliberately lifted his hand again to take another drag from the cigarette. Tim _wasn’t_ paying attention to the way Jason’s lips wrapped around the filter, fitting perfectly like it was what they were meant to be doing.

Jason held the smoke in for a moment, smirking with his hand still near his mouth. Tendrils of smoke wafted off from the cigarette in his hand, drifting towards the storm clouds overhead. He exhaled his own cloud of smoke before flicking his fingers forward and dropping the cigarette onto the pavement. Jason pushed himself off the side of the town car and took a few steps forward, stomping the heel of his boot into the still burning cigarette on the ground and twisting it, grinding the life out of the flame below.

Jason looked up at Tim, the smile still on his face, “Trust me, I’ve got a cause.”

Another clap of thunder roared overhead, followed by splintering bolts of lightning that lit up the darkened clouds in the sky.  Tim felt the air change, the pressure dropping the way it normally did before an intense storm. He sighed, giving Jason one final look before continuing on.

“It was nice to see you.” Tim said, turning on his heel and starting to walk away.

“Hey!” Jason called after him, “Where are you going?”

Tim stopped, turned back to Jason, “What? Why?”

Jason huffed out a laugh, shaking his head, “It was just a question. You’re obviously walking somewhere, and it’s obviously about to rain.”

“Your powers of observation are astounding.” Tim cocked his head to the side.

Jason rolled his eyes, “Are you this big of an asshole to everyone who tries to offer you a ride?”

Lightning flashed again, “You were what?”

“Your powers of observation are astounding.” Jason deadpanned, “This car has to take me wherever I want to go for the next couple of hours, and I’m asking you where you’re going.”

Tim blinked in confusion, his eyes going from Jason, then to the WE town car, and back to Jason. Jason’s arms were crossed, an expression of indifference mixed with annoyance on his face. It was a stark contrast to the actual offer, and Tim couldn’t quite figure out if Jason was doing it to genuinely be nice, or just because it was what was expected.

“You’re free to walk in the rain.” Jason pointed a finger towards the sky, “Just watch out for puddles, there’s some pretty deep potholes around here and your short ass would probably drown if you fell into one.”

It dawned on Tim that Jason wasn’t the kind of person who offered to do things he didn’t want to just to be polite. Another crack of thunder, and then the rain started to fall. It was slow at first, just a light shower, but the thunder rumbled again, and then the downpour started. Jason let out a bark of a laughter and stepped back towards the car, opening the door to climb in. Tim didn’t have to be asked again, he darted towards the town car and made it inside before he’d gotten too soaked.

Jason slid across the back seat, settling next to the window. There was a battered leather jacket between them, but Jason picked it up and threw it onto the floorboard next to his feet. Tim pulled the door shut and ran a hand through his hair to try and salvage it before it dried again. He buckled his seatbelt and then let his head fall back towards the headrest, letting out a relived breath as the sound of rain pounding against the car filled his ears.

 “Nice to see you actually do have some self-preservation instincts after all, Timmy.” Jason was looking at him with a smirk, “Where you heading?”

Tim looked at Jason, and as seriously as he possibly could, he said, “Metropolis.”

Jason’s eyes widened, “Seriously?”

“No, Jason.” Tim laughed, counting Jason’s surprise as a victory, “I was on my way to the Gotham Memoria Medical Plaza, it’s not that far from here.”

The driver up front turned around, “I know where it is, I’ll have you there shortly.”

“Thank you.” Tim nodded politely.

The dividing window between the front and back of the car slowly slid up, cutting Tim and Jason off from the driver. Tim looked out the window as the car pulled out of its space and jumped into the flow of the traffic at the first available chance. They were heading in the opposite direction of the plaza, but Tim decided to trust that the driver knew what he was doing rather than point out the possible error.

Tim turned away from the window and looked at Jason again, though he was surprised at what he found. Jason was looking at Tim with what he could only assume was concern. His brow was pinched together, his eyes a little softer than Tim remembered them being a few seconds before, and he was drumming his fingers restlessly on his thigh.

“What?” Tim asked, confused.

“Shit.” Jason whispered, probably to himself more than Tim, “Are you OK, Tim?”

Tim.

His own name sounded foreign on Jason’s tongue. He didn’t think he’d ever heard Jason say it, there was always a short joke in place of his name, the closest he’d come was just minutes before when Jason called him Timmy. He hated Timmy more than any of the short jokes, but that was beside the point.

Except, that wasn’t right. Jason had used his name once before, just before Tim lost consciousness on the first day they’d met. He could still hear it if he concentrated, the frantic edge Jason’s voice had to it when he yelled Tim’s name.

_Tim._

“Oh, no. I’m fine.” Tim said, but Jason didn’t look like he believed him, “Jason, I’m _fine_. I’m visiting someone.”  

“Oh.” Jason said, shifting in his seat, “Sorry.”

Tim shook his head, “It’s fine.”

The car settled into an uncomfortable silence. Tim tried to busy himself by looking out the window, but the only thing he could hear on was the sound of Jason’s fingers tapping against the denim material of his jeans. It was rhythmic, almost soothing in the way the pattern never faltered.  It was calming in a way that not a lot of things were to him. Steady, dependable. Tim found himself focusing on the sound, relaxing into the seat as he let his eyes drift back towards Jason.

“It’s my dad.” Tim said, surprising himself with the vulnerability of the words, “He’s in a long-term care facility there. It’s why I moved to Gotham, I couldn’t take care of him myself anymore, and apparently Gotham has some of the best doctors in the country when it comes to specializing in traumatic brain injuries.

“Doesn’t surprise me, with all the crazy shit that goes on here they need good doctors.”  Jason said with an air of humor, then quietly, seriously, added, “Sorry about your dad.”

“Thanks.” Tim said, he didn’t like the oddly guilty look that Jason had on his face, and he didn’t want to lapse into another stretch of uncomfortable silence, “You know, this car doesn’t go with you.”  

Jason let out a surprised laugh, his throat bobbing as he threw his head back, “You think you know me that well, Timmy?”

“Timmy.” Tim muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes “I don’t know you at all, but I don’t _need_ to know you to know that you don’t get driven around in a town car daily.”

The interior of the car looked exactly like Tim expected it to. Black leather seats, black glossy pearlescent finishes on the hard surfaces, muted windows from the sheer darkness of the tint. Darkness all around. It was the perfect company car, offering privacy and comfort with the air of luxury built into it.

It was the exact opposite of Jason Todd.

Jason leaned towards the door, propping his arm on the windowsill, “We had some official shit to do today, Dick didn’t think it would seem _appropriate_ if I rolled up on my motorcycle. Personally, I think Dick just likes to be a dick.”

Tim laughed, he could perfectly picture Jason on a motorcycle. His eyes behind the visor of a helmet, his leather jacket billowing behind him as he raced down a winding road, his legs straddled over the…

“You _would_ have a motorcycle.” Tim shook his head, “I’m not even surprised.”

“Don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it, Timmy.” Jason winked.

 Tim felt the heat rising in his cheeks, he turned his head away from Jason and stared out the window. They were close to the Plaza, he could see it just ahead.

Tim took a deep breath as the car began to slow, he chanced a look at Jason, “I guess I got lucky you were in the car then.”

Jason was still looking at him with his head cocked to the side like he was considering what Tim said, a small smile formed on his lips, “I still would have offered you a ride.”

Tim’s eyes went wide, but his reply was cut off by someone opening his door. He looked up and saw the driver of the car standing outside the door with an opened umbrella above his head. He looked back at Jason, who only nodded at him before turning away.

“Thanks again.” Tim said quickly to Jason before he crawled out of the car.

The driver followed him to the front door of the medial building with the umbrella, mercifully keeping Tim safe from the rain. He nodded politely as Tim stepped through the sliding glass doors, and Tim muttered a quick thanks to him before watching him walk back to the car. The windows of the town car were tinted so there was no sign of Jason as the car pulled away from the curb and back out into the flow of traffic.

He stared at the spot where the car had just been, watching as raindrops exploded when they hit the ground. Tim had…no idea what just happened. Was Jason flirting with him? Did Tim flirt back?

Or was Jason just fucking with him, entertaining himself on a boring, rainy car ride?

Tim pulled out his phone, opening up a new text message and scrolling through until he found Jason’s contact info that Stephanie sent him. He didn’t know if it was still Jason’s number, or why he felt the need to text Jason at all.

 

**To: Jason Todd**

**It’s Tim. Stephanie gave me your number.**

**Thanks for the ride.**

Tim switched his phone to silent and slid it in his pocket. He’d find out if Jason replied or not at some point, so he set off to find his dad. He’d made it to the facility with a few minutes to spare thanks to the ride from Jason, so he made a detour to the nurses’ station before going to his dad.

The head nurse smiled when she looked up from the computer and saw Tim, “Timothy, hello.”

Nurse Carole was an imposing woman. She was tall, bordering on six feet, and her tan skin stood out beautifully against the soft pink of her scrubs. Tim had been terrified of her the first time he’d visited his father, but the second she smiled all of his fear melted away.

“Hi, Carole.” Tim smiled back, “How’s dad?”

Carole stood up from the desk and walked around the front, “He’s good, today’s one of his better days. He was actually asking about you earlier.”

Tim huffed out a laugh, “I told him I’d come today.”

Carole nodded, “Your visits are one of the only things he consistently remembers.”

“I haven’t heard from any of the doctors, I assume that means there’s been no changes since I last talked to them?” Tim asked.

“His mood swings have gotten a bit better, but there haven’t been any profound changes other than that.” Carole said, “He’s been more responsive lately, but there are still days when he completely shuts down. There are all normal for someone with as severe of a TBI as your father.”

Tim barely concealed a wince when Carole mentioned the mood swings. They were the main reason that Tim moved his father into the facility that specialized in traumatic brain injuries. He’d tried for so long to take care of his father at home with the help of a live-in nurse, but it had gotten to the point where none of them could handle it anymore.

Tim often felt guilty for what he had to do, even though he knew deep down that everyone was happier because of it.

Carole walked with him until they were outside the door to his fathers’ room.

“Thanks, Carole.” Tim smiled at her before walking inside.

The room was nice, airy and open. One a regular day there would be sunlight streaming in from the large window, but all Tim could see were clouds and rain today. His father was in his wheelchair, back towards Tim as he looked out the same window.

Tim lightly tapped on the door frame, “Dad?”

His dad spun the wheelchair around, smiling when he saw him.

“Timothy!” His dad said, sounding far more energetic than the last time Tim spoke with him, “I was just about to have them call you.”

“Sorry, I got slowed down by the rain.” Tim noticed a chess set in the middle of the table closest to his dad, “What’s that?”

“Yes!” His dad said excitedly, rolling himself to the opposite side of the table, “I had them bring it in. I thought we could play together like we used to when you were younger. We had a lot of fun didn’t we, Timothy? I think we did.”

Tim almost, _almost_ laughed at that. They’d played chess a total of twice, and the first time ended with Tim’s dad getting mad at him for winning. Tim had been five. The second time they played, two years later, Tim let his dad win.

It didn’t seem like his dad shared that memory. Maybe this version of his dad thought it was something that they’d done all the time, that it was a fun bonding experience for them. Tim didn’t have the heart to tell him it wasn’t the case. There would be no point in it anyway, holding onto all that old anger and trying to hurt his dad with it wouldn’t do anyone any good.

Tim walked over to the table and pulled out a chair, “Sure, dad. We can play a game or two.”

His dad messed with the pieces, spinning rooks, knights, kings, and queens around in his fingers before placing them onto the chess board. Tim reached over and adjusted the position of a few of the pieces while his dad wasn’t looking.

Tim made the first move.

“How’s school, Timothy?” His dad asked, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth before making a nonsensical move on the board.

Tim moved his next piece into a position that could easily be overtaken by his dad if he noticed it, “It’s good.”

His dad obviously didn’t know about what happened at the school, and there was no way in hell that Tim was going to be the one to tell him. The odds were pretty high that his dad wouldn’t remember even if Tim did tell him, but the initial freak out wouldn’t be worth it. It would probably end with his dad having to be sedated, and Tim didn’t need to see that again.

“Have you made any friends?” His dad asked, “Your mother always thought you were a bit of a loner, you should have friends you can count on, Timothy.”

His dad looked away from the board without making a move, so Tim reached across and made a move for him. He tried not to let the sting of his mothers’ old words hurt him. He thought of Stephanie, and then Jason. He wasn’t sure they were friends, but they were both something more than Tim had experienced in years.

“Yeah.” Tim looked at his dad and smiled, “There are a lot of cool kids at school.”

“I’m glad you’re at a good school, Timothy.” His dad reached over and rested his hand on Tim’s, “You’ve always been bright, you’re going to go places.”

Tim swallowed and took a deep breath. This was the part of his dads’ injury that he hated the most. He didn’t know which dad was the real one, the one he’d spent years growing up with, walking around in his shadow, never feeling like he was quite good enough. Or the one sitting in front of him now, broken and damaged, but still proud of him.

Maybe neither of them were real, or maybe both of them were. Tim didn’t know, and he probably never would.

His dad got increasingly distracted as the game went on. He trailed off mid-sentence, tried to move his queen halfway across the board in one move, and his eyes started getting that glassy look that told Tim he was slipping away. There were probably only a few good minutes left, so Tim moved his King across the board when he dad wasn’t looking, and moved one of his dads’ pieces into Checkmate position.

“Damn.” Tim laughed, drawing his dad’s attention, “You beat me.”

His dad looked down at the board, smiling when he realized, “I did, didn’t I?”

“I’ll just have to get you next time.” Tim said.

“Can you stay for another game?” His dad asked.

Tim didn’t get a chance to answer, Carole came up behind him.

“It’s time for your medicine, Mr. Drake.” Carole said softly, “Timothy can play you again next time he comes.”

His dad looked at him as he stood, “Oh. You’ll came back soon, right?”

Tim nodded, leaning down to press a kiss to the crown of his head, “Yeah, I’ll come back soon.”

Carole smiled softly, squeezing Tim’s shoulder before he disappeared out the door and into the hallway.

Tim closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to center himself. He braced himself with one hand as it leaned against the wall in the hallway, hanging his head for a moment as he tried to steady his breathing. He always felt off kilter after these visits, like he’d done something wrong but didn’t have any idea what it was. It would eat away from him if he let it, so he tried not to think about it.

The rain was still going outside, so Tim pulled his phone out to call for a car. He had no interest in walking back to his building in the middle of the storm after the visit with his dad. When his screen turned on, he saw the notification of a text from Jason. He swiped the notification, opening the message on his phone.

**From Jason Todd:**

**Any time, Timmy.**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [rain](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=15kWlTrpt5k) by madonna is the mood song for the car ride tbh
> 
> jason when tim is in the car: fuck yeah i'm so smooth im a bad ass vigilante ill give you a ride any time timmy  
> jason after tim leaves the car: what the FUCK did i just say oh my god why am i like this someone please stop me oh god he texted me play it cool jason 
> 
> i edited this after working all night so if there are any mistakes left uh oops


	8. Bust

 

 

 

 

 

 

Eight

Bust

 

Punching people had done an excellent job at keeping Jason’s mind occupied, if he was too busy thinking about which thug to punch next, then he wouldn’t be thinking about how terribly embarrassed he still was after his car ride with Tim. It had been nearly three days since the last time he’d spoken to or seen Tim, and he still thought about offering Tim a ride on his motorcycle at least three times a day.

Going back to the Manor had helped, if only because he had to be on constant guard for unseen attacks from Damian. Jason was sure it was Damian’s way of grieving, but he’d woken up to a surprise sword in the face his first time back at the Manor, and Damian’s tactics were only growing in scale and ferocity.

No one seemed to have the heart to tell the brat to stop, since he was doing it under the guise of _making sure the weaklings were prepared for anything_.

It was Damian’s weird way of making sure they were ready for any situation, and Jason understood it.

Jason ducked, dodging an incoming fist, and grabbed his attacker by the forearm. He yanked the man forward, pulling him down towards the ground, and drove his elbow into the middle of the man’s spine. He let out a cry of pain, and then immediately passed out.

Jason pulled a zip-tie out of his belt and attached the man to the closest lamp post, then he zip-tied the next asshole to his ankle, continuing on until the group was zip-tied together wrist to ankle to create something resembling a human centipede.  

A Human Centipede of Justice.

He double checked all the unconscious bodies, making sure the was nothing they could use to free themselves of the zip-ties, and then turned his back on the scene. He wasn't worried about them working together to get free, between the seven of them there were two broken knees, a fractured collar bone, and fifteen broken fingers, none of which were thumbs because Jason wasn’t a god damn idiot.

Jason tapped the side of his helmet, “Oracle, I’ve got a daisy chain of baddies out here.”

“There’s already a unit on the way,” Oracle laughed softly, “ETA under a minute, so you might want to get out of there.”

“Copy.” Jason pulled out his grapple gun and shot it towards the nearest rooftop.

Jason was zipped from the street and into the air, the wind rushed by him as he vaulted over the edge of the roof and came to a stop right next to a rooftop garden. The tomatoes were lucky his aim wasn’t a few inches to the left. He took off, sprinting towards the edge of the roof and throwing himself across the gap to land on the next one.

He could see flashing lights in the distance, and the cars below rushed by just as he cleared the gap between the second and third building. He ran for a few more minutes, putting at least a mile between himself and the police, and then slowed to a walk before settling down on top of an A/C system.

“Oracle to Hood.” Oracle’s voice crackled over the comm link.

“Hood here.” Jason replied, pulling one of his guns out of the holster and spinning it around on his finger.

“I just picked up chatter about a drug shipment being delivered in Tricorner right now.” Oracle said, “It’s the False Face Gang.”

Jason perked up at that one, slipping the gun back into its holster.

“Well hot damn.” Jason grinned, “I’m on my way.”

“Wait.” Oracle’s voice was calm, but it was clearly a command, “There’s too many for you on your own, I’m showing at least twenty-five guys, maybe more. I’ve tapped into the security cameras from the section of the yard they’ve taken over, they’ve got some serious firepower with them but they’re not well organized.”

“The Bat and the Brat are all the way on the other side of the city, even if they floor it in the Batmobile they’ll never make it before some of the product gets away.” Jason walked to the edge of the building, he could just make out the lights from the Tricorner shipping yard in the distance.

It would take him _maybe_ five minutes to get there on his bike. Jason hopped onto the fire escape, scaled it downwards, and undid the cloaking on his motorcycle. A moment later, the weird shimmery surface behind the dumpster blinked away to reveal his motorcycle.

“I never said I was sending Batman and Robin.” The amusement in Oracle’s voice was clear, “Hood, I think it’s time for you to meet Batgirl.”

Jason cranked the bike, “Seriously, O? You’re sending me a rookie?”

“Everyone was a rookie once, Hood.” Oracle said pointedly, “Even you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jason tore out of the alley with his motorcycle, taking the next turn at a sharp angle, “Tell her to meet me on the other side of the bridge, I’m storing the bike before we get to the yards.”

Oracle laughed, “I would hope so, that thing doesn’t scream stealth.”

Jason smirked, flying around the next corner and zipping his way through two passing cars, “Puts on a hell of a show though.”

Jason quickly made his way through the streets of Old Gotham, which led him to the gates of China Town. His bike was more than a bit out of place, but it was old hat for the people of China Town to see various vigilantes racing through their neighborhood on the way to Tricorner. He kept a slower pace as he moved across the bridge that connected China Town to Tricorner, and once he was on the other side he found a safe place to stash the bike.

Hopping off, Jason armed the bike to the teeth. There were dozens of weapon systems active on the bike to keep would be thieves away. Jason knew how tempting a super vehicle was, he’d been there himself. He pulled up the display screen on the bike and swiped through the menus, and once he was done he turned on the active camouflage.

Once Jason was satisfied that his bike was well protected, he pulled out his grapple gun and made his way up to the roof. It took him a bit longer than usual to make his way across the rooftops to the shipping area, but only because he was on the lookout for any Black Mask flunkies patrolling the streets below.

There were no signs of anyone by the time he made it to the shipping yard, so he used his vantage point to scope out what he was working with. Oracle was right, it was a large group of idiots all wearing different masks. They had heavy firepower, and Jason was pretty sure he could see a grenade launcher in one of the gang members’ hands.

Jason was instantly jealous, he wanted a grenade launcher so bad.

There was a lot of them, but they couldn’t work together for shit.

Their patrol routes were sloppy, and it mostly consisted of a random idiot wandering off in a random direction to look around randomly for a random amount of time.

That was the trick when you were dealing with idiots like this, they thought that having the most firepower meant that they didn’t have to be careful. Jason could easily take at least seven of them out quietly without anyone even noticing.

They were cracking within the ranks too. Jason zoomed the vision on his helmet in and watched as two men moved a barrel marked hazardous waste into the back of a semi-truck. The guy on the left stumbled, and the guy on the right dropped the barrel on the ground just so he could take a swing at his partner.

Useless messes, all of them. Jason would make a better criminal than they ever would.

The barrels obviously held the drugs. Jason didn’t know what was inside, but knowing Black Mask it probably wasn’t pretty. He gave them points for marking the barrels as hazardous material. Even if they were pulled over your average Gotham cop wasn’t going to go near anything labeled like that as long as the truck driver didn’t look too sketchy.

Something landed on the roof behind Jason, he spun instantly and pulled his gun out. The person behind him flinched at the sight of it, but she kept her cool for the most part. Jason slid the gun back into his holster and crossed his arms over his chest to give the new Batgirl a once over.

“You must be the Red Hood.” Batgirl said, eerily mirroring Jason’s pose.

Batgirl certainly had the gear to go along with the name. The deep purple color of her suit blended well with the night sky, and the yellow accents instantly made him think of Barbara. He didn’t get to patrol much with Babs when she was Batgirl, but the times that they did were certainly memorable.

Blonde hair spilled out of the back of Batgirl’s cowl, and she adjusted her cape as she stood there watching Jason.

“They not to get yourself killed, they’re packing some serious shit down there.” Jason said, pointing his thumb over his shoulder.

Oracle’s voice crackled into his ear, and Batgirl’s too if her startled reaction was any indication, “I’ve given Batgirl a brief rundown of what’s going on.”

“Did that rundown include the fact that someone out there has a grenade launcher?” Jason asked.

Batgirl gasped, “A grenade launcher.”

“Before you ask, No, you cannot keep it.” Jason assumed that was directed at him, “Batgirl, I want you to follow Red Hood’s lead on this, he’s been at this a lot longer than you have. This is your first time dealing with something more than a petty criminal.”

God dammit.

Batgirl was totally gonna die, and Jason would never hear the end of it.

“How’s he been doing this longer than me?” Batgirl asked, “He just showed up this week.”

Jason laughed, the sound coming out distorted through her mask, “Shit, she still doesn’t know who I am, huh?”

“No, she doesn’t.” Oracle said, “I’ve talked to Batman, and he thinks it’s best that everyone meets without a mask on soon. In the meantime, Red Hood is a former Robin, so he knows what he’s doing.”

“I finally get to meet Batman?” Batgirl asked.

Jason let out another laugh, “Boy are you in for a surprise.”

“Hood.” Oracle’s tone was a clear warning.

“Sorry, sorry.” Jason held his hands up in surrender, “They’re about done loading that truck up, we should get in there.”

“I’ll be monitoring you from here.” Oracle said, “Oracle out.”

“Alright Blondie let’s see what you can do.” Jason turned back towards the dock, “We’ll take out as many of them as we can quietly, but once they’re done unloading that boat we’re going to have to get dirty.”

Batgirl nodded, “I’m fine with a little dirt. What are we doing with the drugs afterwards.”

Jason’s grin behind his mask was razor sharp, “Oh, I have a plan for that.”

 

X

 

Jason fired off a rubber bullet at his last target, hitting him in the kneecap and sending him to the ground. He walked over to the guy and kicked him in the face, knocking him out. He turned to see Batgirl swinging her staff around, driving it into the face of one attacker before sweeping the legs out from under another. She hit them both in the head with opposite ends of the staff, and then they were out like a light.

“Not bad.” Jason said, a little winded.

“Thanks.” Batgirl said as she rubbed the spot on her jaw where someone hit her with the butt of a gun.

“You wanna start tying ‘em up?” Jason looked over his shoulder, grinning as he saw Batgirl groan inwardly.

“I don’t think I have enough zip-ties with me.” Batgirl said as she swept her arms out while surveying the unconscious body count.

Jason pulled a wad of them out of one of the pouches strapped to his thigh and tossed them to Batgirl, “Second rule of vigilantism: always bring extra zip-ties.”

“What’s the first?” Batgirl asked.

Oracle and Jason replied at the same time, “Don’t die.”

Jason laughed at the way their voices echoed together, “Nice of you to join us, O.”

“Sorry.” Oracle said, “I was running technical support for Batman and Robin, they got themselves into a bit of a jam, but it’s all taken care of now.”

“Robin get locked inside a vault on accident again?” Jason asked, smirking.

Oracle was silent for a moment, “I can neither confirm nor deny that question.”

Jason tipped his head back and cackled. He couldn’t wait to give the brat shit about it later.

“What are we going to do about the drugs?” Batgirl asked, grunting as she pulled a mask off another gang member.

“I’m about to send the alert out to GCPD now, they’ll probably take it to their evidence lockup.” Oracle said, “I can make sure the Commissioner has it as his top priority.”

“Or,” Jason grinned, drawing out the vowel, “I could just take care of it all now.”

“Hood.” Oracle said, “What are you planning.”

“Nothing too crazy.” Jason shrugged, “Batgirl, you might want to stay away from the truck for a little bit.”

“Oh no.” Batgirl's voice was weary, “Don’t tell me you’re going to do what I think you’re going to do.”

Jason eyed the grenade launcher in the pile of other discarded guns. He might not be able to keep it, but he could at least have some fun with it before it got taken away. He made his way over to the guns, grabbing the grenade launcher from the top of the pile and testing the weight of it in his hand.

It was loaded, which meant it would do its job perfectly. This would eliminate the risk of some crooked cops in the CGPD getting their hands on this stuff and sending it back out onto the streets. It would also send a hell of a message to Black Mask, and that was just an added bonus.

The immediate area around the semi-truck was clear, and Jason did a second sweep for bodies just to confirm. The cab of the truck was empty, so was the trailer except for the barrels of drugs. 

“Time for a show.” Jason looked at Batgirl, surprised to see her smiling too.

Maybe she was more fun than Jason gave her credit for.

“This is me voicing my stance against this course of action.” Oracle said, “Also, Batman is probably going to disapprove too.”

Jason hefted the grenade launcher in his arms, lining up his shot. If all went according to plan, he should be able to fire two or three grenades into the back of the semi and blow it to high heaven.

Jason pulled the trigger, “Batman will deal with it.”

Poof. Poof. Poof.

The sound of three grenades shooting from the gun was music to Jason’s ears, he heard the sound of them clanking against the metal floor of the semi, and then less than half a second later the truck exploded in brilliant red flames.

Jason dropped the gun, turning to make a run for it before the fuel tank exploded too. He clapped a hand around Batgirls elbow, pulling her along with him. Jason fired his grappling gun into the roof of a building just outside of the docks, and Batgirl followed his lead.  

The fuel tank of the truck exploded the second their feet were on the roof, and Jason’s entire body vibrated from the force of the explosion. He could feel the aftershocks in his teeth. He turned back to look at the docks, admiring the flaming wreck of metal and drugs burning below.

“GCPD is going to be cleaning that up for days.” Oracle said, sounding slightly too amused for someone who just voiced her stance against blowing up a drug running truck with a grenade launcher.

Jason shrugged, “Gotta make them earn that pension somehow.”

“Batgirl, I want you to head back to the Clocktower. I’ve got a few things I want to go over with you.” Oracle said, “Hood, you’re free to head in or make another sweep, your call.”

Jason nodded, tapping the front of his helmet with a two fingered salute, “You got it, boss.”

“Oracle out.”

Jason backed away from the ledge of the building as a fleet of squad cars and a fire truck rocketed around the corner. He hissed in pain when he put too much pressure on his left leg, he hadn’t even realized he’d gotten hurt during the fight. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off though, Jason could feel the sting in his leg.

He looked down and noticed the dark stain on his thigh, he pulled back the fabric and saw a decently deep knife wound.

“Bastard.” Jason groaned, “One of those assholes must have had a Kevlar piercing knife.”

Batgirl leaned in, wincing in sympathy, “Damn, that looks painful.”

Jason shrugged, waving her off, “I’ve had worse.”

Sure, the knife wound hurt like a bitch, but it didn’t come anywhere close to comparing to the worst pain he’d ever felt in his life. Jason shook his head, immediately pushing away any of those thoughts.

“I’ll take care of it when I get home.” Jason waved Batgirl away, “You better get going, O doesn’t like it when people keep her waiting.”

Batgirl rolled her eyes, “Fine. Try not to bleed out, I’ll feel guilty if you do.”

Jason laughed, pressing both hands over his heart, “Your concern warms my heart.”

“You’re an asshole.” Batgirl laughed.

“I know.” Jason shrugged, “You’re not too bad yourself, Blondie.”

The last thing Jason saw before Batgirl swung her way to an adjacent roof was her middle finger.

Jason moved a little slower as he made his way back to his bike. He tried to keep from the rooftops, not trusting his leg to carry him across any jumps or rough landings. He was glad he didn’t decide to park further away from the docks, or his trip back would have taken at least twice as long.

His bike was a welcome sight, and he sighed in relief as he sat on it after unarming its defenses. He didn’t bother with taking off the active camouflage though, so if anyone walked by, they would be seeing him essentially floating in the air.

“Hood are you there?” Oracle’s voice came through his comm.  

“Yep.” Jason said, stretching out his leg, “Done with Batgirl already?”

“She hasn’t arrived yet, and she’s not why I’m calling you.” Oracle said, “I just finished looking into all the accounts that were connected to Drake Industries.”

That got Jason’s attention, he sat up a little straighter, “Oh? And?”

“Jack Drake had several shell companies funneling money in and out of both his personal and professional accounts, which is hardly a surprise. White collar crime is like breathing to people like Jack Drake, but what is interesting is the other places the money was going.”

Jason arched an eyebrow, “Gimme the good news, O.”

“Jack Drake was involved with several of Black Mask’s people, but I can’t find anything tying him to Black Mask himself. I have list of every known, and unknown, account Black Mask has ever accessed and none of the payments that came from any account attached to Drake is a match.”

“Couldn’t he just have new accounts that you don’t know about?” Jason asked.

“It’s possible, but unlikely.” Oracle said, “Black Mask would have much more sophisticated accounts attached to him, and the ones connected to Jack Drake are not. I’ve followed the trails from all of them back to several high-ranking members in the False Face Gang, and all the money that came from Jack Drake was going into their pockets.”

“Interesting.” Jason hummed, “It sounds to me like a few of Black Mask’s men were wanting out from under daddy’s shadow, itching to strike out on their own, and maybe they had something over Drake to get him to finance their little operation.”

"It wasn’t hard for me to hack into the accounts to see what they spent the money on.” Oracle said, amused, “Some of it is what you would expect: drugs, booze, women. But there’s something else, the three men connected to this pooled their money together to purchase a stretch of buildings in The Narrows. I’ve also hacked into one of their computers and pulled up dozens of ledgers for purchases of automatic weapons and explosives.”

Jason let out a long whistle, “So maybe less new business venture, and more hostile takeover? They’re making a play for the False Face Gang.”

“Their communications are coded, but it sure looks like it. It seems like they hit a bit of a roadblock right before Jack Drake’s death though.”

“What do you mean?” Jason asked.

“Payments from the accounts connected to Jack Drake abruptly ended two months before he died.” Oracle said.

“And then his family was attacked.” Jason added, “You think Drake finally grew some balls?”

"It looks more like he got caught.” Oracle said, “By his son.”

Jason blinked, “What?”

Oracle laughed softly, “I’m not the first person to hack into these accounts, and the footprint from the last person who did is suspiciously similar to the one who hacked into the GCPD. I’m willing to bet Tim hacked into his parents’ accounts, saw what was going on, and confronted his parents about it.”

“Shit.” Jason whispered, “And then his mom was murdered, and his dad was barely left alive.”

“The Terrino brothers, the men who attacked Tim in the alley, are loyal to the splinter cell of the False Face Gang.” Oracle said, “Now things make a lot more sense.”

“They saw Tim, got pissed that a Drake was in Gotham after fucking them over, and wanted a little revenge.” Jason growled, “Assholes.”

“Which also means that Tim might still be in danger.” Oracle said, “If he even knows what’s happening, he might not even be aware that the discrepancies he found were connected to the False Face Gang.”

Jason turned off the cloaking of the motorcycle and cranked the engine, revving it, “I guess we’re about to find out.”

“Hood.” Oracle’s voice was weary, “Where are you going?”

Jason smiled as he pulled out onto the road, “I’m going to pay Tim a visit.”

Thunder crackled overhead, and a bolt of lightning lit up the darkened sky. Rain began to pour from the sky as Jason navigated the bridge out of Tricorner. Tim’s apartment was in the Diamond District, which wasn’t that far from Jason’s current location. He could be there in a few minutes with the way he drove, even if he was a little more careful because of the wet roads. It might be ass o’clock in the morning, but Jason had a feeling that Tim would still be awake.

“Hood, Tim is a victim in all of this, not a conspirator. There’s nothing that connects him to the gang.” Oracle warned.

“Jesus, O.” Jason gasped, “I’m not going to rough him up, I just want to know if he knows about his parents’ connection to the gang, and if he doesn’t then he needs to know so he stays safe. I don’t know if you noticed, but he’s a bit of an idiot.”

“I don’t know, I think he’s pretty brilliant.” Oracle said playfully.

Jason rolled his eyes, tapping the comm link off, “Hood out.”

 

X

 

Tim had to give it to Gotham City, she never did things halfway.

He looked out his bedroom window as a torrent of rain swept across the city. Bolts of lighting would periodically flash, lighting up the sky while they were being chased by cracks of thunder. The thunder itself was what woke Tim from his sleep, and he knew there was no hope for falling back into it as long as the storm continued.

Some people found storms relaxing, comforting, but Tim felt the opposite. He wasn’t scared of thunder, but it also wasn’t conducive to a relaxing atmosphere.

Tim pushed himself out of his bed with a sigh, not bothering to turn on the light as he walked out into the hallway. The A/C in the apartment was on full blast, and trails of goosebumps rose over Tim’s bare skin as he walked under the vent at the end of the hall. He wasn’t wearing much, just a pair of boxer briefs to sleep in, and he was still relishing the freeing experience of being able to walk around wearing whatever he wanted to.

He pulled a mug out of the cabinet near his coffee maker, sliding the glass under the nozzle and jamming his finger into the power button so it would start brewing what he’d set up before going to bed last night. The clock over the microwave may have been taunting him with its flashing numbers, but 2:45am was just as good of a time for coffee as any.

Tim knew he’d have to fix his sleep schedule sooner rather than later though, since classes officially resumed on Monday. Tim thought it would take longer than it did to clean up the school and hire enough teachers to replace the ones who died, but Gotham was probably already used to a pretty steady turnover rate so there was always someone waiting in the wings.

It was a depressing thought.

The aroma of coffee filled the kitchen, doing more to wake Tim up than even the thunder did.

The coffee maker beeped a few minutes later, and Tim pulled the steaming hot mug from the machine before it even had a chance to shut off. He took a sip and let the coffee warm him from the inside out, the coffee doing battle with the naturally cold atmosphere of his apartment.

The last thing Tim was prepared to see when he turned back towards the living room was the silhouette of a man on his balcony, but there it was. He didn’t scream at the shock of it, didn’t even startle and spill some of his coffee, he just stared at the outline of a tall man on the outside of his sliding glass door.

There was a heavy tension in his shoulders though, mostly because who the hell had gotten onto his balcony? His apartment was nearly at the top floor of the building, it wasn’t like someone could wander in off the street drunk and find themselves on his balcony looking into his apartment.

Another bolt of lightning lit the man from behind, giving him an eerie look like something out of a horror movie. The lightning helped answer his question though, as it gave Tim a glimpse of an unmistakable red helmet on the head of the man outside his door.

“You have got to be kidding me.” Tim said under his breath as he sat his mug on the counter and walked towards the sliding glass door.

It was locked, but Tim was under no illusions that the Red Hood couldn’t open the door if he really wanted to. Red Hood cocked his head to the side, then gave Tim a slight wave as he got closer. Tim flipped on the light outside, washing the Red Hood in enough light for Tim to fully take him in.

He was wearing the same outfit as the news footage that Tim saw, complete with the brown jacket instead of the black on he’d been wearing the first night Tim met him. Both his guns were still strapped to his thighs too. He looked like the exact opposite of someone Tim should willingly let into his home, and yet.

Tim undid the lock and stepped backwards, putting enough artificial distance between himself and Red Hood to trick his brain into thinking it made him more comfortable.

Red Hood slid the door open, and the sound of the storm outside filled Tim’s apartment as Hood stepped inside. He was able to slide the door closed and lock it again, all without breaking eye contact with Tim. Tim stared into those unblinking white eyes, unsure of why the Red Hood was even in his apartment in the first place.

“You expecting someone else?” The Red Hood asked, waving a gloved finger up and down the length of Tim’s body.

Tim looked down, suddenly feeling more exposed than he had before. He’d forgotten he wasn’t wearing anything other than his underwear, and now he was standing almost naked and completely defenseless in front of the Red Hood. He was now keenly aware of the scars on his shoulder, standing out perfectly against his pale skin.

Tim did what he normally did when he felt uncomfortable, he fell back onto an icy glare, turning his scarred shoulder away from the Red Hood, “I wasn’t expecting anyone, let alone Gotham’s newest guy in a mask showing up on the balcony of my _twenty-eighth-floor_ apartment.”

Tim could feel Hood’s unseen eyes raking up his body, “Would it be different if I wasn’t in a mask?”

Tim bit his tongue, turning on his heel and marching off towards his bedroom. Somehow, he knew that the Red Hood wouldn’t follow him.

He opened up his drawers and quickly pulled out an old pair of gym shorts and a v-neck, he dressed in record time and then grabbed a towel out of the bathroom before heading back into the hall. He’d managed to accomplish all that in under a minuet, uncomfortable with leaving the Red Hood alone in his apartment for any longer than that.

Hood was still where Tim left him, a growing puddle beneath his feet. Tim sighed, balled up the towel, and tossed it towards him. He caught it midair, unfolded it, and stared at it like it was something he’d never seen before.

Tim sighed, raking a hand through his hair, “You’re dripping water all over my floor, dry off or something.”

Tim had seen and heard a lot of hilarious things in his life, but the squeaking sound the towel made as the Red Hood rubbed his helmet dry was probably going to end up somewhere close to the top of the list when all was said and done.

Hood shrugged out of his jacket, draping it over the back of the metal chair closest to him, and then dropped the towel onto the floor and began mopping up the puddle he’d created. He was considerate for a vigilante, at least.

Still, Tim had no idea what he was doing there.

“Did you just come here to drip all over the place or is there a reason you were standing on my balcony in the middle of the night?” Tim crossed his arms over his chest, “How did you even get onto my balcony?”

A distorted laugh came through the helmet, “I grappled up from the building next door, it’s an easy shot to the twenty-fifth floor, then up to yours.”

Tim arched an eyebrow, “And I’m just supposed to assume you magically knew which apartment mine was?”

“The Hood knows all.” Hood said, tapping two fingers to the side of his helmet and turning them like a key.

That surprised a laugh out of Tim, he rolled his eyes and walked back over to the kitchen. His mug of coffee was still decently warm, so he took a gulp of it and emptied out half the drink. He sat the cup back down on the granite countertop with a clink and leaned against it, looking at Hood.

“I’d offer you something to drink, but…” Tim trailed off, waving his hand in front of his own face in the approximation of a mask.

Hood didn’t say anything, he just walked over to the kitchen to join Tim. Tim watched him as he walked, and it was then he noticed the ever so slight limp in the Red Hood’s step. It wasn’t much, just the tiniest of hesitation when it came time for him to put pressure on his bad leg. He pulled out a bar stool and sat across the island from Tim, folding his hands together.

“I’m here on business.”

Tim groaned, “Is someone about to break into my apartment or something? Present company not included.”

“I didn’t break in, you let me in.” Hood scoffed, “And no, you’re fine for now. It has to do with what happened a few nights ago, the night we first met.”

Tim didn’t flinch, “The alley?”

Hood nodded, “We identified the men who attacked you, they were a part of a local gang.”

 _We_.

Tim filed that away for later.

“I figured as much.” Tim said, “They didn’t seem like random muggers after all.”

“The important part is _what_ gang they were a part of, I’m going to assume you’ve heard of Black Mask.”

Tim nodded, “Everyone has heard of Black Mask, you’re saying they were a part of his gang?”

Hood nodded.

Tim sucked in a sharp breath. The people who attacked him because of his father were a part of Black Mask’s gang? Tim’s father had something to do with Black Mask? He knew his dad was up to shady shit, but he thought it was the usual white-collar stuff like insider trading and embezzlement.

“I did a little bit of digging on your fathers’ finances before his attack, there was a couple million dollars going in and out of offshore bank accounts and dummy corporations that raised a few flags.” Hood said calmly, or at least as calmly as the robotic voice of his helmet would allow, “After tracing the accounts, we found out that they were connected to a few high-ranking members in the False Face Gang. Did you know your dad was paying off people in Black Mask’s organization?”

Tim’s entire stomach dropped, he could only assume his face was as pale as it felt. This couldn’t be right. His dad was an asshole, suffered from more hubris than Tim had ever seen in his life, but he certainly wasn’t stupid enough to go along with something like this.

“There was evidence of your dad's main account being hacked before, I assume that was you?” Hood asked.

Tim nodded, “I…I thought he was doing something stupid that would risk the company. Jesus, I thought it was something stupid like insider trading or just plain theft, so I hacked into his account and saw the way that money was being moved around. It didn’t look right to me, but I didn’t follow the trail any further than one of the shell corporations that I knew my dad owned.”

“You didn’t know what he was actually doing with the money?” Hood asked.

Tim shook his head, “No. I confronted him, I told him he needed to stop whatever it was he was doing, or I’d leak it all to the press myself. I threatened to call the FTC, the IRS, anyone who I knew he’d be sacred of. It was the last big fight we had.”

“This was before the attack?” Hood asked, and when Tim nodded, “How long before?”

Tim thought back, “Two, maybe three months?”

It all made sense then, the attack, his mothers’ death. Tim had suspected something like this, but he’d never had the proof.

“It’s my fault.” Tim whispered, “I always knew it was, but I didn’t know for sure until now.”

“What?” Hood’s white eyes snapped to him, “Tim, no.”

Tim laughed bitterly, “Yes. My mother is dead, my father is a shadow of the man he used to be, and I got shot just because I couldn’t keep my stupid curiosity to myself.”

Tim wasn’t someone who regularly practiced self-loathing. It wasn’t something he found much use in, but it was hard to deny the feeling that assaulted him now that he knew the full truth of what had happened. How could you not feel badly about yourself when you know that you’re the reason your mother was killed in front of you, and you’re also the reason your father will never live a normal life again?

"Something like this was bound to happen, Tim.” Hood said, gently reaching out and touching his hand, “That’s how these guys work. Someone was either working with or blackmailing your father into funding a coup against Black Mask. His people were trying to take him down from the inside, and they were using your dad’s money to purchase weapons and set up an infrastructure for when everything went down.”

Tim looked down at the gloved hand on top of his, “If I would have realized what was really happening I could have done something different, I could have figured something out. My parents weren’t the best, but they didn’t deserve what happened to them.”

Hood’s hand tightened, drawing Tim’s attention, “Listen to me, there was never going to be a happy ending to this story. I’m sorry, but that’s just how these guys work. They would have needed to tie up a loose end at some point, and your family was one of them. And even if your dad was a partner to these guys, Black Mask would have found out eventually. The way they were running this was sloppy, and once he found out no one who helped in this whole plot would have been safe. Tim, I’m so sorry, but what happened was inevitable.”

Tim swallowed deeply, pulling his hand back to himself. Hood’s words were blunt, bordering on unfeeling, but they were the truth. It was what Tim needed to hear, he was never one that liked being coddled, and a truth that hurt was always better than a lie designed to protect. The ugly truth shocked him back into a more clear state of mind.

“You’re certainly not winning any therapist of the year awards.” Tim took a deep breath, and then let out a shaky laugh.

Hood shrugged his shoulders, the red metal of his helmet catching under the light, “I’m not good at sugar coating things.”

“You’re not.” Tim agreed, “But I like it, I needed it.”

Hood leaned back, clasping his hands together and resting them behind his helmet. He stood up after a moment, and Tim watched as he leaned his weight on his uninjured leg.

“Anyway, the two guys who attacked you were loyal to the splinter cell within the False Face Gang, it’s likely that they noticed you when you moved back to the city and were still angry about the loss of their money. Your dad stopping payment put a huge dent in their plan, it doesn’t look like its recovered.”

Tim scoffed, “They sent someone to kill us, I think it’s clear how big of a dent he put in everything.”

Hood walked over to the chair his jacket was draped over and pulled it off, shaking off the last remaining bits of water before shrugging it back on. They stood there in silence for a minute, and just as Tim opened his mouth to say something the Red Hood beat him to it.

“I just came to tell you to stay safe, I doubt anyone else will try to attack you after Tweedledee and Tweedledum got arrested, but Black Mask will be asking too many questions that the people who tried to go against him won’t want to answer.”

“But if Black Mask finds out…” Tim trailed off, not wanting to finish that statement.

Hood nodded, “Yeah. I’ve got a friend who’s trying to scrub all record of Drake involvement with the whole plot on the off chance that he does figure it out, but it’ll take her a few days to go over everything with a fine-tooth comb.”

Getting rid of the paper trail would help, but it wouldn't do anything to stop the men who were involved from talking if Black Mask found out. It was a problem for another day though.

“So you’re saying I shouldn’t go down to Black Mask’s territory and wave a flag that says my parents tried to get you killed?” Tim asked, a small smirk playing on his lips.

The Red Hood slapped a palm over the face of his helmet, “While that _would_ be fun to see, it would also make my job a lot more stressful so try not to do that.”

“I certainly wouldn’t want to make your _job_ any more stressful.” Tim rolled his eyes.

The Red Hood walked back to the sliding glass door, Tim followed behind him as he unlocked it and stepped outside. The rain had died down a bit, and the thunder and lightning seemed to be mostly gone. He watched as Hood pulled a smaller gun out from his jacket, the grapple gun Tim assumed.

“Is your leg going to be OK?” Tim asked, pointing to the wound he could see now that he was standing closer to the Red Hood.

Hood looked down, shrugging, “I’ve hard worse.”

A bit of blood seeped out at that comment, and he reached down to wipe it away.

“I’ve got a first-aid kit with sutures in it.” Tim said, not entirely sure of what exactly he was offering.

Was he offering to give the Red Hood stitches?

The white eyes of the helmet started at him for a moment, and then Hood shook his head, “Just so you’re aware, I’m smiling under here. I appreciate the offer, but I’ll make it home in one piece.”

Tim watched as the Red Hood climbed onto the railing of his balcony and leaned over slightly. He held his grapple gun straight up, and then pulled the trigger. The gun gave off a small popping sound, and Tim heard the metal grapple attach to something up above just a moment before the Red Hood was zipped off his railing and up towards the sky.

Tim stuck his head over the railing and looked up, but there was no sign of the Red Hood.

A drop of the Red Hood’s blood was left behind on the railing, and Tim had a quickly aborted though of saving it for DNA testing just so he could find out for sure who the Red Hood was.

Instead, he watched the blood disappear as the rain washed away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wrote part of this loopy on painkillers from my wisdom teeth removal so if it's weird sorry lol


	9. Return

 

 

 

 

Nine

Return

 

The first thing Tim thought Monday morning after his cup of coffee was that it was odd putting his uniform back on. It was a brand-new uniform that had been sent to him in the mail a few days earlier, identical to the previous one in every way except for the fact that the new one was completely free of any blood stains. According to Stephanie, the school had sent out new uniforms to everyone who’d been at school the day of the shooting.

 It was a nice gesture, at least.

Tim gave himself a few extra minutes in the morning to just relax, he looked out the expansive windows in the living room and watched Gotham City come alive. He grabbed his cup of coffee from the end table and slid the door to the balcony open, immediately allowing himself to be assaulted by the sounds of the city. It wasn't too bad, given how high up he was, but there was still plenty of noise from below to make it clear that he was in the middle of a bustling city.

The second thing Tim thought Monday morning was that he needed to get some kind of furniture for his balcony. The single, sad plastic chair that sat out there currently was more than a little depressing. It was a nice balcony, it felt comfortable and safe, and Tim wouldn’t mind spending more time out there if he was being honest.

It was also the same balcony that vigilantes apparently show up on uninvited, but even that wasn’t so bad.

Tim drummed his finger on the metal railing, listening to the tinny thump as he looked out over the skyline. A few moments later, his doorbell echoed through his apartment. He turned and sighed, there was only one person who would be ringing his doorbell at this time of the morning. Tim made his way back into the apartment, turning and locking the sliding glass door behind him as he went.

He grabbed his bag from the center of the island and patted his pockets to make sure he had everything. Phone? Front left pocket. Wallet? Back right pocket. Keys? In his hand. Shoes? On his feet. He dropped his mug into the sink, filled it with a dash of dish soap and hot water, and threw his bag over his shoulder just as his doorbell rang again.

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” Tim called out, rolling his eyes.

Tim opened the door to find Stephanie mid-yawn. She looked as put together as she did when Tim first met her, black headband in place, checkered skirt and tights without a wrinkle, and the NGPA jacket draped across her forearm. The dark circles under her eyes were new though, she looked like she hadn’t slept in at least a day.

“Good morning?” Tim asked hesitantly.

Stephanie’s reply was momentarily cut off by another yawn, she frowned as she recovered, “Hi. Good morning. Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Tim said, stepping out into the hallway to join her.

Stephanie took a step backwards, and then turned to walk towards the elevator at the end of the hall as Tim went through his usual system of methodically locking every deadbolt on his door. Stephanie was inside the elevator by the time he finished, her hand keeping the door open for Tim.

“I thought I was meeting you in the lobby.” Tim said as he leaned against the opposite wall of the elevator.

Stephanie shrugged, “You were taking too long, I got bored.”

“I needed coffee.” Tim said, by way of explanation.

“There’s a really good food truck on the corner that opens early for breakfast, they have killer coffee.” Stephanie said.

Tim wrinkled his nose, “Coffee from a food truck?”

Stephanie scoffed, rolling her eyes, “Don’t be such a diva.”

Tim glared at her. He wasn’t a diva, he just had strong opinions about his coffee.

Stephanie dropped her bag from her shoulder and into the crook of her elbow, the bag dangling while she searched through it for something. She pulled out a compact, flipped it open, held it up to her face, and frowned. She let her bag drop to the floor, and then lifted her hand and poked at the bags under her eyes repeatedly as if that would make them disappear.

“Long night?” Tim asked her with a wry smile.

Stephanie snapped the compact shut and let her head drop back against the wall of the elevator, “You don’t even _know_.”

“Couldn’t sleep?”

“I wish that was my problem.” Stephanie laughed, “No, I had some…extended family come into town last night. It was the first time I’ve actually ever met them, and they were totally _not_ what I expected.”

Tim frowned, “Sorry, I can’t help you with that one. Only child of only children, dead grandparents on both sides to boot. I don’t have a lot of experience with extended family.”

Stephanie looked at him, blinking, “Well damn, that’s depressing.”

Tim shrugged, not really focusing on it. It was something he’d gotten used to as a child, and it was something he tried not to think of as an almost-adult. It was harder now, since he didn’t even have his parents to rely on anymore. It would be easy to let himself be overcome with the loneliness. It would be easy to let himself get lost in the fact that he’s the last Drake on the planet, the sole survivor of a legacy bloodline.

A dynasty the Drake family was not.

“It’s fine.” Tim said, turning the spotlight away from himself, “Did you like this new family?”

Stephanie chewed on her bottom lip for a second, “It’s complicated? They’re all really close, and they’re going through something terrible, so I feel like an outsider even though I’m supposed to be a part of the team.”

“Team?” Tim echoed.

Stephanie’s eyes went wide for a second, and then she let out a wholly unconvincing laugh, “My brain doesn’t want to cooperate this morning. Sorry. Let’s drop the subject?”

“Sure.” Tim said, hoping he disguised the more than mild note of skepticism in his voice.

The elevator doors opened to the third floor, and Tim stepped back and let Stephanie exit first. He followed behind her, waving a hello at the morning doorman as they passed by before they stepped out onto the street. Stephanie talked a lot as they walked, pointing out various places that Tim had and hadn’t discovered in the few months he’d been living in the building.

If anything, he at least got a tip about a really good Chinese food place that was open 24/7 just around the corner, one that delivered for an extra fee no matter the hour. Which meant he never had to walk to a pizza place in the middle of the night again.

“Excited for your second first day of school?” Stephanie asked as they approached the much-lauded food truck.

They filed into an impressive line, and Tim craned his head to see how far from the front they were before replying, “Excited isn’t the word I would use.”

Stephanie frowned, “You’re not like, nervous, are you? It’s totally fine if you are, understandable even, but you’ve seemed surprisingly fine since the whole thing.”

“I’m not nervous.” Tim said, shaking his head, “I’m not scared either, it’s just weird to think about the whole thing. There still isn’t anything about that day that makes any sense. Do you know that the police haven’t even tried to talk to me? You think they would, seeing as how Jason and I were so involved in everything, but there’s been no calls, no one has stopped by, my lawyer even asked me if I’ve been sleeping enough when I called his office to ask if they’ve reached out to him.”

Stephanie tipped her head slightly, “There were a lot of students involved, Tim. Maybe you just slipped through the cracks, the GCPD isn’t exactly know for its stunning detective work.”

Tim chewed on his tongue as he thought it over. It’s possible that they just forgot, or maybe there was the Wayne connection keeping them away from him. After all, if they questioned Tim about what happened that would mean they needed to question Jason, there was probably a team of Wayne retained lawyers stopping that from happening.

_But still._

“There hasn’t been anything about it on the news after the day it happened either.” Tim pointed out.

“The school is probably trying to minimize it, keep it quiet so they don’t drive off the rich kids and their parents and lose their donations.” Stephanie offered, “Are you sure you’re OK? You seem like you’ve been thinking about this a lot.”

Tim let out a frustrated growl as the line more forward a few feet, “It just doesn’t make sense, and I don’t link things that don’t make sense.”

Tim had always felt a desperate need for things to make sense, if he didn’t understand something then he’d learn how to. There wasn’t much he could do to make sense of this, not since there wasn’t anyone talking about it and he couldn’t get back into the GCPD server to look at the case files.

That was another thing that was driving Tim slightly crazy, somehow the GCPD beefed up their cyber security after his journey into their system. It wasn’t a coincidence, that was for damn sure. Their security system had gone from laughably easy to break through, to mind bogglingly complex. Tim could probably find his way around it, but it would take a lot more computing power than he had set up in the spare bedroom of his apartment.

Talking it out with Stephanie was making him feel less stir-crazy within his own head though, even if Stephanie was looking at him like he may be _actually_ crazy.

“And then there was that song!” Tim said, moving forward again.

Stephanie shrugged, waving her hand like she was conceding to that point, “OK, yeah, I’ll give you that one. It was creepy as fuck.”

“It’s connected, I know it is.” Tim insisted, “It all started when the song played, and it all stopped when the song did. None of those people have any memory of killing anyone, and I highly doubt a group of students and staff members got together over spring break and decided to go on a killing spree once school started again.”

Stephanie pursed her lips, “We are in Gotham, crazier things have happened.”

That was exactly what Tim was afraid of.

 

X

 

The mood at NGPA was somber, to say the least.

Immediately, Tim’s eyes were drawn to the differences to the building compared to his first and only day inside. For starters, there were two armed guards stationed outside the gates of the school. That didn’t make Tim feel any safer, considering one of the theories he was running with was post-hypnotic brainwashing.

There were no students corralled on the front lawn, the entry steps were entirely devoid of students sitting and loitering while waiting for friends. The front doors to the school were wide open, and Tim made a note of the newly replaced handles on both doors.

It was fairly obvious that the entire inside of the building had been repainted, and Tim was pretty sure Jason or Damian left a small hole in the wall in their fight that had been plastered and painted over. The flooring inside had been replaced with brand new, dark, expensive looking wood.  It gleamed under the light, giving off the kind of glossy finish that only unmarred flooring could.

They’d changed almost everything inside in record time, and they probably spent a hefty amount of money doing so.

It wasn’t as quiet inside the building as Tim thought it would be, bits and pieces of conversations floated in and out of his ears as he moved down the hall with Stephanie by his side. No one seemed to be talking about anything important, just safe topics that wouldn’t bring up anything they didn’t want to think about.

“There’s an assembly in the auditorium before classes start.” Stephanie said, pointing down the hall to another set of double doors.

“There’s an auditorium?” Tim asked blankly, he didn’t remember that one.

Stephanie nodded, “It’s right through there, no one really uses it except for student government.”

Tim noticed Jason leaning against the wall a few feet down the hallway. His uniform shirt was untucked, and he had his coat draped over his forearm. His fingers were drumming restlessly against the wall, and he seemed to be watching the rest of his family with annoyance.

Damian was standing in front of him, his arms crossed over his chest. His back was ramrod straight, perfect posture evident even from a distance. He was looking up at Mr. Grayson, his brow furrowed. Ms. Gordon was next to him, looking up at Mr. Grayson with almost the exact same expression as Damian. It would have been funny if Tim was in the mood to laugh at something.

Jason looked up as he and Stephanie got closer, he nodded, “Napoleon. Blondie.”

Stephanie glared at him, but Tim just sighed and offered him a lazy smile, “Good morning to you too, Jason.”

The other three near Jason looked up, registering the sound of a difference voice. Damian looked at Stephanie, nodded once, and then turned a critical eye to Tim. Damian’s eyes narrowed, sweeping up and down Tim’s body as if he was assessing him.

“Good morning, Brown.” Damian said to Stephanie, and then turned to Tim, “Drake.”

Tim arched an eyebrow, “Nice to see you again, this time under better circumstances.”

“Tt.” Damian clicked his tongue against his teeth, “Circumstances do not matter, one should always be prepared for anything.”

Damian inched forward, opening his mouth to say something else, but he was stopped by a hand falling onto his shoulder. The hand belonged to Mr. Grayson, he gave Damian’s shoulder a light squeeze, and Damian’s mouth clicked shut as he moved back a few inches, though the downturn of his lips said he wasn’t happy about it.

“Now’s not the time, Dami.” Mr. Grayson said, then lifted his hand from Damian’s shoulder to extend towards Tim, “I’m Mr. Grayson, and you must be Tim Drake. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Tim slowly reached out to Mr. Grayson’s hand, and he was surprised at the firmness of the handshake itself, he arched his brow in curiosity, “You have?”

Mr. Grayson nodded after a glance over his shoulder in Jason’s direction, “I was glad to hear you weren’t badly in injured after…everything that happened.”

Tim let out a small, surprised laugh, “Where did you hear that from? I know it wasn’t Jason.”

Jason visibly flinched, and his eyes went a little wide before he recovered and pulled the mask of bored annoyance back over his face. It was a low blow, Tim knew, and he was sure that Jason had more important things going on in his life, but a small part of it still stung. He thought he’d gotten over it, but that apparently wasn’t the case.

Never let it be said that a Drake didn’t take an opportunity to air a grievance when they saw one.

“Don’t let it bother you.” Ms. Gordan said, a slight smile playing at the corners of her mouth, “He’s gotten a lot better about things like that, he used to be much worse when he was a kid.”  

Ms. Gordon’s voice was warm, soothing almost. There was something familiar about it, like maybe Tim had heard her speak before, but this was the first time he’d ever had any interaction with Ms. Gordon up close.

“Oh, bite me.” Jason rolled his eyes, “I hate when you pull that kid crap, you’re only five years older than me.”

“Six.” Ms. Gordon said, correcting him automatically.

Jason glared at her, but did nothing to refute it.

Ms. Gordon turned from Tim to Stephanie, “Good morning, Stephanie.”

“Morning, B-Ms. Gordon.” Stephanie said, stumbling a bit.

Jason let out a snicker, “Didn’t get your full eight hours?”

Stephanie’s ears turned red, and Mr. Grayson just sighed and shook his head. Damian raised his foot to stomp on top of Jason’s, but Jason moved his foot out of the way just before the heel of Damian’s shoe came down on it.

“Like you slept any better.” Stephanie said, sending Jason an icy glare.

Jason shrugged, “I’m used to not sleeping.”

Mr. Grayson cleared his throat, “I think the assembly is about to start. Dami, why don’t you, Stephanie, and Tim head in and find a seat?”

“What about Todd?” Damian asked.

“I need to talk to Jay about something for a second.” Mr. Grayson smiled, reaching down to ruffle Damian’s hair.

“Unhand me, Grayson!” Damian swatted at his hair as Mr. Grayson pulled his hand away, and then turned to glare at his reflection in one of the glass trophy cases.

Stephanie laughed, circling her arm through Tim’s and pulling him away from the group. Tim waited until they were at the doors of the auditorium to say something.

“Was that supposed to be weird?” Tim asked, “That felt weird.”

“It was weird.” Stephanie confirmed, shaking her head, “Very, very weird.”

The tone of Stephanie’s voice told Tim that she was talking about something entirely different than he was.

Tim ignored the feeling, “I guess you weren’t exaggerating when you said you and Jason weren’t friends?”

“Ugh!” Stephanie groaned, “Jason Todd is the most infuriating asshole ever!”

Stephanie completed her outrage with an actual stomp of her foot as she fisted her hands to her side. It was kind of adorable, honestly.

The auditorium wasn’t exceptionally large, more of a smaller movie theatre with rows of plush chairs that folded down. There was a small stage at the front of the room, a raised platform with a podium emblazoned with the NGPA logo and a microphone attached to it. The microphone was probably overkill.

“I normally have to sit with the other student government members during these things.” Stephanie said apologetically, pointing to the two rows of students at the front of the room.

There was an unoccupied seat with a purse on top of it, probably the one that was being saved for Stephanie.

Tim shrugged it off, “It’s fine, I think I can manage sitting by myself for a few minutes.”

“Are you sure?” Stephanie asked, fretting over him like a mother about to drop her kid off for the first day of school.

“I’m positive.” Tim said, rolling his eyes with a smile as he waved her away, “I’ll find somewhere to sit on my own.”

Stephanie nodded, and then turned on her heel to head towards the front of the room. The girl in the seat next to the empty one lifted her purse when she saw Stephanie approach, and Stephanie dropped into the empty seat and pulled a small notebook from her own bag.

Tim honestly didn’t mind sitting alone, it gave him time to himself to collect his thoughts and reorganize everything that was swirling around in his brain. It had been an all too busy morning, and Tim was assaulted with far more than he could process just from the conversation with the Wayne family alone.

As if summed by Tim’s own thoughts, Damian edged past Tim without saying anything. Tim watched as he moved to the middle of the room and dropped into the isle seat. A group of girls walked up to him, obviously trying to get in front of him to fill up the row, but Damian’s glare sent them scattering.

Tim knew better than to try and sit next to Damian, so he settled for a nice quiet corner seat in the third row from the back. Tim’s upbringing prevented his semi-present conscious from letting him sit in the very back row without saying anything, so the third row from the back was as good of a compromise as any. He was also banking on the fact that no one would want to sit in the back of the room next to the new kid they didn’t know.

He settled into the chair and dropped his bag onto the ground next to him before crossing his legs at the ankles and tipping his head backwards a bit. Tim couldn’t stop replying his conversation in line for coffee with Stephanie, the whole thing had been gnawing at him as the return to school approached. Being back in the building though, that was sending Tim’s curiosity into overdrive.

Tim felt a stab of guilt at that feeling. It was curiosity that drove him to want to figure out exactly what happened, not a need for justice, or a sense of honor for the students and teachers who were killed. It wasn’t anything noble, it was just Tim’s never ending need to figure out a puzzle when he saw one.

He eyed the intercom speakers in the corners of the room, if he concentrated he could still hear the song coming out of them. The song was the most curious part, it was something that could have ultimately been written off as a prank if it happened by itself, but it was impossible to ignore when it preceded the attacks inside the school.

There was no reason for a song from 1954 to spontaneously play throughout the entire school. The song was the key to the whole thing, and it was driving Tim crazy that he couldn’t figure it out. Tim knew he’d heard the song before it played inside the school, but he couldn’t figure out where he’d heard it for the life of him. It certainly wasn’t something that was in regular rotation on any of his playlists.

Tim let out a huff and closed his eyes as his head fell backwards to rest against the chair. He wiggled in the seat, sliding down until he was slouching more than sitting. He ran everything through his head again, flipping it over, looking at it from different angles, trying to think of something, anything that made sense.

The chair next to Tim gave out a squeak as someone pulled the seat downwards. Tim registered the feeling a someone next to him, a body that was maybe a little too warm sitting down into the previously empty seat. Tim’s arm was brushed by an elbow, but the person didn’t say anything. Tim let out a slightly frustrated sigh, he’d chosen the spot for a specific reason and the reason had failed.

Tim slightly rolled his head towards the person who was next to him, he cracked open a single eye to find Jason staring at him. Tim’s other eye opened instantly, and he blinked at Jason for a few seconds before pushing himself up in his seat.

Jason was even less put together than before; his tie was almost completely undone where it hung loosely around his neck. The top few buttons were undone on his dress shirt and one of his shoes was untied.

Teenage rebellion, thy name is Jason Todd.

“Oh.” Tim mumbled awkwardly, “Hi?”

Jason’s face was flat, “Hi.”

“You’re sitting next to me.” Tim pointed out.

“Yes.” Jason nodded slowly, “Is there a problem? Were you saving this seat for one of your many, many friends?”

Jason’s eyes flicked towards the front of the room, zeroing in on Stephanie. Jason knew well enough to know that Stephanie was the only semi-friend that Tim had, the asshole.

“You don’t want to sit with your brother?” Tim asked, lobbing the metaphorical ball back into Jason’s side of the court.

Jason barked out a laugh, “For one of these things? I’d rather sit next to someone who hadn’t showered in a week than Damian.”

“I’m sure Damian would love to hear that.” Tim said as he narrowed his eyes.

Jason shrugged, “You go sit next to him then, let him break your ribs with those knobby ass elbows of his every time you try to say something.”

Tim cringed at the thought, having seen what Damian could do to a guy twice his size.

“Noted.” Tim said, turning away from Jason.

The room was beginning to fill at a quicker rate now. Tim pulled out his phone to check the time, and he saw that there was only a few minutes until the official start of the school day. He assumed that was when the whole assembly would start, though he wondered how much of the morning period it would take up. He had no idea what was going on with his home room, he figured there was a new teacher but there hadn’t been anything said about it.

Jason was quiet as all the thoughts ran through Tim’s head, he only said something once Tim stopped drumming his fingers on their shared armrest.

“Sorry.”

Tim paused for a second, then twisted his head towards Jason again, “What?”

Jason let out a huff, the air rushing through his nose as he looked like he was in actual pain, “I said I’m sorry.”

“I heard that part.” Tim confirmed, “You’re sorry for what?”

Jason growled, slapping a hand to his forehead and dragging it down his face, “You’re really going to make me say it?”

“Yes?”

“Jesus fuck you’re difficult.” Jason muttered, quiet enough to where Tim thought he wasn’t supposed to hear it, “I am sorry for not seeing if you were OK after everything that happened.”

“Oh.” Tim said, slightly stunned, “Um, thanks.”

Jason rolled his eyes, “You’re welcome.”  

Tim let out a laugh, “Are you only apologizing because your brother made you?”

“Fuck Dickface, he doesn’t tell me what to do.” Jason glared at him, “I’m apologizing because I feel bad about it, I should have at least said something the day I gave you a ride. I’m sorry, OK? Will you just accept the damn apology for real so I can stop feeling bad about it?”

Tim didn’t think that was how apologies actually worked, but Jason looked sufficiently tortured over the entire thing, so Tim was fine with letting him off the hook for good.

“Apology sincerely accepted.” Tim said, smiling, “I didn’t mean to be that big of an asshole about it, just so you know.”

Jason laughed, “I’m slightly terrified to find out what you’re like when you’re _trying_ to be an asshole.”  

“You should be.” Tim narrowed his eyes and gave Jason a devious look.

Tim was always sort of an asshole at all times, it was something he almost couldn’t help. It wasn’t the same when he was trying to be an asshole though, the times when it was Tim’s intention to _kill_ rather than maim. He got that particular trait from his mother, and it was something that she’d actually been proud of. She’d told him he would be amazing in a boardroom one day.

It came as a surprise to Tim himself when he realized there was something inside of him that didn’t want Jason to see him like that. He didn’t want Jason to see him at his worst, and he didn’t quite know why that was.

It was just another puzzle to add onto the ever-growing pile of mysteries in Tim’s crowded head.

The room quieted as the Headmaster of NGPA took the stage. The lights in the room dimmed, and two spotlights illuminated the podium on the stage. The sudden onset of darkness startled a yawn out of Tim, and he realized that since he’d been sitting he’d grown even more tired than he was before.

Jason looked over as Tim let out a yawn, “Didn’t get enough sleep?”

“I got four hours.” Tim said, yawning again, “That’s usually enough, I probably didn’t drink enough coffee this morning.”

“Seriously?” Jason asked, shaking his head, “No wonder you’re so short, you stunted your growth with all that caffeine.”

“Fuck you.” Tim said, absolutely devoid of heat, “Stephanie took me to this coffee cart, and what I got wasn’t anywhere near as strong as what I needed.”

“Idiot.” Jason said, his voice sounding a little too fond for Tim’s liking, “Close your eyes, I’ll wake you up when this is over.”

Tim looked from Jason to the stage, the headmaster was rifling through a stack of papers in front of the podium, “I probably shouldn’t miss this, it’s important.”

Jason shrugged, “I’ll wake you up if there’s something important, it’s just going to be him telling us how we’re going to be stronger now, and that we’ll need to work even harder to honor the memories of the dead. It’s the same bullshit empty words that everyone gives.”

Jason’s face darkened for a second, but the emotion was quickly packed away and replaced with something more neutral.

The dim lights were making it easier to consider Jason’s offer, he could feel his eyes growing heavier by the second.

“You’re not fucking with me, are you?” Tim asked.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Piglet.”

“Fuck you.”

“OK.”

Tim slid down in his seat again and closed his eyes, the warm heat of Jason’s body next to him making an already tempting offer even harder to turn down.

 

X

 

Jason tuned the assembly out right around the time the Headmaster started talking about a grief counselor that they’d brought into the school for the week. Jason didn’t have anything against them, he just knew that they wouldn’t work for him. He wasn’t particularly traumatized by what happened at the school, he’d already seen and experienced more than the other students would in their entire life.

Jason wasn’t entirely sure if he could figure out a way to explain to a grief counselor that he wasn’t affected by the shootings at the school because he’d been tortured, killed, brought back to life, and then tortured some more by a psychotic clown.

How could Jason be traumatized by seeing someone die in front of him when he’d had to claw his way out of his own grave all for the amusement of The Joker?

Instead, Jason focused on Tim’s sleeping form next to him. It surprised Jason how quickly Tim fell asleep, even over the sound system it seemed like Tim had only just closed his eyes before his breathing evened out and his limbs went slack.

Tim shifted in his seat a little bit, and Jason began to feel the warm heat of Tim’s breath on his shoulder.

It was probably creepy to watch Tim as he slept, but Jason had also watched him through his window which was arguably worse than watching him sleep in the school auditorium, so he didn’t feel too guilty about it. It was almost impossible not to look at Tim anyway, he looked so much softer when he slept.

Tim Drake was sharply intimidating when he was awake, and Jason could sense something slightly dangerous lurking below the surface of him. He’d gotten a taste of it in the hallway earlier, and several other times when they’d had a conversation together.

Jason had seen Tim fight, he knew he could throw a punch, but Tim’s capacity for physical damage wasn’t something that Jason was really focused on. It was the other kind of damage, the kind that killed you without leaving a mark, that had Jason feeling equal parts of fear and excitement. Tim had a concealed weapon on him at all times, and Jason was positive that Tim knew exactly how to wield it.

Tim shifted again, mumbling something unintelligible. Tim’s hair looked soft, and maybe if things were different Jason could reach down and brush the bangs away from Tim’s forehead, but all he could settle for now was watching him.

He hated that Dick wanted to keep an eye on him, hated that Babs had told Dick about the stuff with Black Mask and Tim hacking the GCPD server and searching for information about the rest of his family. He knew why she did it, Oracle had her own duties, and she had more to worry about than Jason’s personal life, like apparently making _Stephanie Brown_ Batgirl without telling anyone.

Jason pinched the bridge of his nose to fight his growing headache. The Headmaster’s voice was grating on his ears, and the thoughts of Bats and Birds circling around Tim wasn’t helping either. Thankfully the Headmaster was wrapping things up, and Jason pulled out his phone to check the time. The assembly had been going on for a little over half an hour, so he lightly nudged Tim with his elbow to wake him up.

Tim mumbled a bit and swatted at Jason’s elbow with a limp hand, it was endearingly pathetic.

“Tim,” Jason whispered, “Tim, you gotta wake up.”

“Don’t wanna.” Tim muttered.

Jason huffed out a laugh, dropping his hand on Tim’s shoulder to shake him, “Up and at ‘em, Timbo.”

Tim’s eyes opened slowly, and Jason watched as they went from hazy to alert in just a few seconds. Tim sat up in his seat, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck. He lazily ran a hand through his hair, knocking it out of place even worse than it was before.

Jason had to sit on his hands to stop from reaching out and fixing it for Tim.

“Is it over?” Tim asked groggily.

“Yeah.” Jason said, “You have a good nap?”

“I think?” Tim’s eyebrows drew together, “How long was I out?”

“A little over half an hour.” Jason said.

“Did I miss anything important?” Tim asked.

Jason shrugged, “Not really, they brought in some grief counselor to talk to students.”

“Oh.” Tim scoffed.

“Not a fan?” Jason asked, standing as the doors to the auditorium opened behind them.

“Not particularly.” Tim said, grunting as he leaned down to pick up his bag, “Therapy and I didn’t get along the last time I tried it.”

Tim followed behind him as they made their way out of the auditorium. Jason shouldered through the student body, cutting a clear path through them that Tim stuck to. He was waiting for Tim to hang back, or abandon him entirely to wait for Stephanie, so he was surprised when Tim fell into step beside him once they were through the thickest part of the crowd.

“Have you heard anything about our new teacher?” Tim asked, “I mean, has your brother said anything?”

Jason grunted, “Dick was saying something about how they got the guy who used to teach the class to come out of retirement until they could find a permanent replacement.”

Tim nodded, “That’s good, at least it means we won’t fall behind on anything important.”

“That’s all you care about?” Jason asked, laughing.

Tim shrugged this time, “The entire reason I came here was so that it would look good on college applications.”

“Ah,” Jason smiled, “so you’re one of those, huh?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Jason was sure Tim was glaring at his back as they made their way up the staircase.

“You just didn’t seem like one of those school obsessed kids.” Jason said, looking over his shoulder, “I would have pegged you more for the type to buy his way into the school he wanted.”

Tim’s nose wrinkled in disgust, “I hate those people. I want to go to a good school, I want to make something out of my life, and I want to earn it in the process. I don’t want to fall back on my last name, though to be honest it doesn’t carry as much weight as it once did so even if I wanted to I probably couldn’t.”

Jason leaned against the wall as he waited for Tim to catch up to him, “God, you sound like Damian except without a threat of violence every other sentence.”

“Damian, huh?” Tim smirked, “Fine, maybe I’ll make that Wayne brother my friend, I can’t be held back by the one who can’t even manage to tuck his uniform shirt in properly.”

Jason narrowed his eyes, “It’s an aesthetic choice, asshole.”

Tim’s lips twitch as he tried to suppress a smile, “Keep telling yourself that.”

They made their way inside the classroom, which was deafeningly quiet. The walls and floors had been redone inside there too, and the whiteboard that once had a bullet hole in it was replaced with one that didn’t. The desk was brand new too, the broken windows were replaced.

It looked like nothing happened.

Everyone was sitting in their seats, content with letting the awkward silence stretch out. Tim edged around him, his hand brushing Jason’s hip, as he made his way to the seat he’d taken the first day of class. Jason sat in his desk and watched Tim as he unpacked. The only sounds in the room were zippers and pencils clattering onto the desk, Tim just added to the chorus of them.

Jason pulled out a binder and his pen, if only so he’d have something to busy his hands with. He tapped the back of the pen against the spine of his binder for about a minute before Tim looked back and glared at him. Annoyance looked good on Tim, so Jason started tapping the pen even louder.

The door to the classroom opened, and everyone turned their heads to see the person who was walking in. An older man stepped through the doorway, he was bald, round, and moved slowly. He looked about ten years too old to be allowed to drive safely, let alone shape the minds of Gotham’s youngest and brightest.

The man made his way to the desk and dropped a thick folder on it before opening it up and thumbing through the pages inside.

He cleared his throat, “Good morning, my name is Mr. Connor, and I’ll be teaching you for the next few weeks until a permanent replacement is found. I taught here for twenty years, so I should have a firm grasp on it until someone else comes along. Are there any questions?”

No one said anything.

“Alright.” Mr. Connor nodded, “We’ll start slow to ease everyone back into the usual system then.”

Mr. Connor did his roll-call, ticking off names as he went down his printed list. It was the least lively classroom Jason had ever been in. As soon as Mr. Connor finished, the phone rang.

“Hello?” Mr. Connor answered, pausing for a few seconds, “Alright. I’ll send him down now.”

Mr. Connor hung up the phone and turned back to the classroom, “Mister Drake?”

Jason and Tim both looked up at the front of the room at the same time.

“Yes?” Tim answered, confusion coloring his voice.

“The central office would like you to come down for a moment, there’s something they’d like to speak to you about.” Mr. Connor said.

Tim cocked his head to the side, “Is everything OK?”

“Yes, yes.” Mr. Connor said, “Just please head down and speak to them, I’ll get you caught up once you return. You can leave your things at your desk.”

“Ok.” Tim said with thinly veiled skepticism.

Tim stood from his desk and turned to walk towards the door, he caught Jason’s eye and scrunched his face in confusion. Jason shrugged, he couldn’t think of why anyone would need to see Tim. The only time students got called down to the central office was when they did something bad, and that rarely actually happened at NGPA.

Tim knocked his knuckles on the edge of Jason’s desk as he passed by, and Jason raised his own hand and lightly hit the back of Tim’s arm before he was out of reach. Tim huffed out a quiet laugh, and then he disappeared through the classroom door.

 

X

 

“Are you serious?” Tim asked incredulously, crossing his arms over his chest while channeling the worst memory of Janet Drake that Tim had in his mind.

The Headmaster looked terrified, but he continued on anyway, “Yes, Mister Drake. The other faculty members and I think it would be beneficial if you spoke to the grief counselor we’ve brought in. You and Mister Todd were very…involved that day and we’re worried that you don’t have anyone to talk to.”

“Excuse me?” Tim gasped, “Why is Jason Todd not down here too then? Or Damian Wayne?”

“We’ve spoken to their brother and we think-”

Tim cut the headmaster off, “No, don’t finish that. I get it. You’re essentially forcing me into this because I’m the only one without a guardian, you think you can pressure me into doing something that is probably only there to absolve you of any possible lawsuits because I don’t have a rich mother or father standing behind me threatening to pull a yearly donation. What you seem to have forgotten is that I've inherited my own fortune from my parents, and I'd be more than happy to donate once I graduate.”

The Headmaster look stricken, “Mister Drake, I can assure you that is not the case.”

Tim was tired. He was tired of fighting, tired of arguing, tired of being fucking tired. He knew he needed to reel it in, stuff Timothy Drake back into the closet before he said something to the Headmaster that he’d regret down the line. Everything Tim said may be true, but the Headmaster did have the ability to make his life harder and Tim would rather avoid getting into that battle. He could deal with a grief counselor, he’d talked circles around the psychologists the court appointed during his emancipation hearing, it shouldn’t be too hard to convince a grief counselor that he wasn’t going to snap and lose it in the middle of fourth period.  

“I’m sorry, Headmaster.” Tim said placatingly, “It’s been a long morning, I apologize if I spoke out of turn.”

The Headmaster smiled softly, “Apology accepted, and the incident forgotten. I know it’s been a rough time, and we just want what is best for all of our students. You’re very bright, Mister Drake, and that’s the reason we agreed to bring you on in the middle of the year, we just want to do everything we can to offer help and assistance if you need it.”

Tim contained an eyeroll, but just barely. He smiled, reached out to shake the Headmaster’s hand, and then stepped around him to head towards the faculty lounge that the counselor had taken over. The door was ajar, so Tim stuck his head inside. There was a man there, dressed in a black suit, with his back to the door.

“Hello?” Tim said from the doorway.

The man turned, he had brown hair that was swept to the side and the collar of a white shirt stuck out from inside his expensive looking suit jacket.

“Ah, yes.” The man smiled, “You must be Timothy Drake.”

Tim nodded, “That’s me.”

“Come inside, Timothy. Close the door behind you.”

“You can just call me Tim.” Tim said as he stepped into the room, he turned and closed the door once he was inside the lounge.

There was a couch against the wall, and a plush chair pulled across from it. There was a round coffee table in front of the couch, and as Tim got closer he saw a file with his name on it. The man reached down to grab it when he saw Tim looking, and then he tucked it under his arm.

The man swept his arm towards the couch, “Make yourself comfortable, Tim.”

Tim swallowed thickly, he didn’t like the way the man said his name. Still, Tim walked forward and sat down onto the couch as the man sat down into the plush chair across from it. Tim noticed then that there were two other things that stood out in the middle of the table, an hourglass that sat next to a metronome.

Tim could vaguely understand the need for an hourglass, but the metronome was out of place. It was something that belonged in a music studio, heavy and wooden, with a solid gold pendulum in the middle of it that glinted under the fluorescent light of the room.

The man settled himself into the chair and then flipped open the file with Tim’s name on it, he leafed through the papers inside before looking up at Tim with a thin smile.

“I’m sorry,” Tim said, breaking the silence, “I didn’t catch your name.”

Tim watched as the man reached down and wrapped long, spindly fingers around the hourglass. He lifted it off the table in one motion, then flipped it over before he sat it back down on the table with a heavy thud. The white sand began to fall rapidly from the top and down to the bottom. It almost distracted Tim from his next move, but Tim saw the man reach for the metronome. He placed his index finger on the side of the golden pendulum and lightly tapped it, it immediately began to move from side to side, tapping out a rhythm as it went.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Tim couldn’t tear his eyes way from the golden pendulum, even as the man spoke.

“My name is Simon, Simon Hurt. But you can call me Doctor Hurt.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *gasp* plot! i look forward to your comments on the ~big reveal~


	10. Hurt

 

 

 

 

Ten

Hurt

 

The metronome echoed in Tim’s ears, almost as if the pendulum was swinging inside his own head. He could almost see if it he concentrated, a golden rod swinging back and forth, colliding into his brain with every movement. It would probably be louder if it was inside his own head. It would probably hurt.

Hurt.

Doctor Hurt was sitting across from him, he’d unbuttoned his suit jacket so that his white shirt was completely exposed and one leg was crossed over the top of another. Distantly, Tim had a memory of seeing Doctor Hurt stand and walk to the door of the lounge. Distantly, Tim had a memory of the sound the lock made when Doctor Hurt turned it.

Tim had a memory of it all, but he couldn’t remember it.

He tore his eyes away from the pendulum, and Doctor Hurt looked at him with a fond smile. There was a notebook in his hand now, and he pulled a pen out from somewhere else. Tim’s file was open on the table between them, but it was angled in a way that made it so Tim couldn’t read it himself.

“Timothy Drake aged seventeen.” Doctor Hurt said, writing in his book, “The sole survivor of the Drake family massacre.”

“I…” Tim’s tongue felt heavy, it was a struggle just to speak, “I’m not the only one.”

Doctor Hurt looked up at him, an eyebrow arched, “Ah, you mean your father?”

Tim nodded, he couldn’t find the words to speak. He didn’t think they’d be heard over the sound of the metronome anyway.

“I’ve seen your father, Timothy.” Doctor Hurt smiled, it was cruel more than comforting, “I wouldn’t call that living, would you?”

No, Tim thought.

“No.” Tim said.

“Good. I’m glad you can be honest with me, Timothy.” Doctor Hurt said.

“I don’t want to be.” Tim said, ground out between clenched teeth.

Tim didn’t want to say anything, didn’t want to speak to the psychopath across from him. But every time Doctor Hurt asked him a question, Tim couldn’t help but respond.

“I suppose you don’t.” Doctor Hurt frowned, “Does it anger you that you don’t have a choice?”

“Yes!” Tim nearly screamed.

“What would you do to me if I set you free?” Doctor Hurt asked, smiling.

Tim looked down at his wrists, then at his legs. There was nothing him holding him in place, no chains, or ropes on his body. He should be able to get up, to run away or to fight Doctor Hurt off, but he couldn’t. There was nothing stopping him, but he couldn’t get away.

The metronome droned on in the background.

“I’d hurt you.” Tim said, positive, “I’d do whatever I could to get away from you.”

“Would you kill me, Timothy?” Doctor Hurt asked, “Would you kill me if I let you?”

Tim tried not to answer, but he couldn’t, “No.”

“Interesting.” Doctor Hurt wrote something down in his notebook, “Have you ever wanted to kill someone?”

“Yes.” Tim answered immediately.

Doctor Hurt’s face lit up with excitement, “Oh? Do tell me more! Who did you want to kill?”

“The man who killed my mother.” Tim said, swallowing the bile in his throat, “I’d kill him if I could.”

“Do you know what that man was?” Doctor Hurt asked.

“No.” Tim answered.

“How very sad.” Doctor Hurt frowned, “I’m very sorry for your loss.”

Tim glared at him, “No you’re not.”

Doctor Hurt was quiet for a moment, and then a grin spread out across his face.

“You’re a very perceptive one, aren’t you?”

“Very.” Tim narrowed his eyes, “I know what you’ve done.”

“Oh?” Doctor Hurt stood from the chair he was sitting in.

Tim watched as he walked across the room, his shoes echoing against the wooden floor. He stopped in front of the coffee maker and opened up a cabinet door, randomly selecting a mug from inside, and poured himself a cup of coffee. He held the steaming hug close to his face, and Tim could see his smile behind the wafts of steam that came from the mug. He took a single sip, and then turned the mug over above the sink and poured out the rest of the coffee.

Doctor Hurt dropped the mug into the sink, and Tim heard the sound of the glass breaking as it hit. Doctor Hurt pulled open one drawer, then another, and then another until he finally found what he was looking for. The sound of the cutlery clanging against each other almost seemed to fall into a harmony with the metronome.

“Got it!” Doctor Hurt said, turning back around to face Tim with a sharp butcher’s knife dangling limply between his thumb and forefinger, “I’ve no idea why a school needs a knife this sharp, but I can’t say I’m sad to see it!”

Doctor Hurt walked back towards him. He placed the knife in the center of the table, just a few inches away from the metronome. He placed the tip of his index finger along the side of the blade, and then he flicked it so the knife started to spin on the table.

The knife was clean, shining silver that flashed under the fluorescent lights as it spun. Tim watched as it moved in time with the metronome, the blade flashing as the metronome gave off yet another tick. No matter what happened, the knife didn’t seem to slow down.

It just kept spinning, matching time with the metronome.

“If the man who killed your mother walked into this room, would you use that knife on him?” Doctor Hurt asked.

“Yes.” Tim answered without a second thought.

“What would you do to him?” Doctor Hurt asked.

Tim thought about it for a moment, “I’d make it quick. I’d cut his femoral artery and watch him as he bled out. I’d want him to know he was dying and that I did it.”

“Interesting.” Doctor Hurt hummed, “You want to kill him quickly, but you want him to know it was you. You’re not interested in making a show of things, you just want the message you’ve sent to be clear. What do you think that says about you, Timothy?”

“That I’m a rampant control freak with several other issues. I’m obsessed with being heard, being understood, and I’m sure that stems from a childhood where I was either ignored or used as a shiny trophy piece by my parents at their parties. I don’t relish chaos, I hate it actually, but I can recognize when something has to be done.”

Tim felt sick to his stomach. If he thought he could grab the knife and use it to cut out his tongue, he would. He didn’t want to tell him any of this, he didn’t want anyone to know this about him. He felt like he was being flayed open, being cut away piece by piece, and the knife on the table had nothing to do with it.

“You don’t speak fondly of your parents, yet you want to avenge what happened to them.” Doctor Hurt pointed out, “Why is that?”

“You don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone.” Tim said, his voice hollow.

Doctor Hurt scribbled something in his notebook, then looked back up at Tim with narrowed eyes. He wrote something else, line after line. He wrote for minutes, maybe hours, Tim didn’t know anymore. He just knew that Doctor Hurt never turned the page of the notebook.

“Explain.” Doctor Hurt said, twisting then pen between his hands.

Tim closed his eyes, trying to fight off tears.

“I don’t know if my parents ever loved me. I know I loved them, but I think it changed as I got older. They started to resent me the older I got because it was harder to get me to participate in their stupid photo-ops and staged press events. It’s why they started leaving me alone. I guess in a way they prepared me to be by myself, living alone is different in so many ways, but it’s also the same. It’s quiet. It’s peaceful. It’s lonely. It’s terrifying.”

“Why do you mourn your parents then?” Doctor Hurt asked.

“Because they could have changed.” Tim answered, “They could have woken up one morning and realized how terrible they were, they could have decided to love me again. It could have all changed, and I wouldn’t have been so alone with them around. It could have been different, and now I’ll never know.”

The knife on the table stopped spinning.

“Poor Timothy.” Doctor Hurt said softly, “Tell me then why you resent your father as he is now?”

“Because he’s not my father. The man in that home isn’t Jack Drake, he isn’t the man I wished he would change into either. He’s a phantom, he’s a ghost who haunts me and sometimes tells me things I wish my real father would have said, but he isn’t my father. I have to see him, because he’s all I have left. I have to go to him, talk to him, tell him that I love him, because even though he isn’t my father, he still is.”

“You’ve never told anyone this, have you?”

Tim shook his head, “No.”

“Why?”

Tim laughed, darkly bitter, “Because I don’t have anyone to tell. I’m alone. I don’t have any family, I don’t have anyone to listen to me. I wouldn’t want to tell anyone even if I did.”

“You’re telling me.” Doctor Hurt pointed out.

“I don’t have a choice!” Tim growled, “I hate this! I hate you! I feel disgusting, I feel terrible, I feel like you’re ripping me apart and taking all my secrets away from me!”

“Touché.” Doctor Hurt shrugged, “I want to talk about something other than your parents.”

Tim sighed, his shoulders shrugging in equal parts relief and defeat, “What else do you want to talk about?”

When Tim looked back up, Doctor Hurt was wearing a mask.

It wasn’t like the masks the men who attacked him in the alley were wearing, it was almost like a domino mask, but far more dramatic. The black mask covered the top half of his face, and the sides flared out into something that almost looked like pointed wings.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with Jason Todd-Wayne, have you not?” Doctor Hurt asked, and the sides of his mask fluttered as he moved his head.

“I wouldn’t say we’ve spent a lot of time together.” Tim said, “Why the hell do you want to know about Jason?”

“The two of you worked together flawlessly on your first day of school despite never having met before.” Doctor Hurt said, “He’s given you a ride in his car, he’s been inside your home, and you looked positively adorable asleep on his shoulder in the school auditorium. Is this maybe a case of you not realizing you’re getting close to someone, Timothy? You’ve never formed a true, meaningful relationship before in your life, how would you actually know when you are?”

Tim was reeling, it was too much to be confronted with at once. The knife on the table began to spin on its own again, and the ticking of the metronome grew faster and louder. He pieced Doctor Hurts words part carefully, finally settling on the one part he knew he could refute.”

“I might be getting closer with Jason. I like being around him, he makes me feel like I don’t have to be _Timothy Drake_ , because he knows what it’s like being _Jason_ _Wayne_. I would never tell him that, because I’m scared it would drive him away.” Tim took a deep breath, “But you’re wrong about one thing: Jason has never been inside my home.”

Doctor Hurt’s eyes widened behind his mask, though he quickly tried to cover the reaction. Tim wasn’t sure what he’d said that surprised him, but he’d take the small victory where he could.

“You’re not in on the family secret then, are you?” Doctor Hurt asked, “That’s surprising, but it doesn’t change much.”

Tim didn’t understand what he was talking about. Doctor Hurt was frustrating in more ways than Tim could count, he’d go from making perfect, albeit crazy, sense, and then the next second he was spouting off random lines that didn’t seem to have to do with anything they were talking about.

Nothing about Doctor Hurt made sense. Who was he? Where did he come from? Why was he so obsessed with Tim?

“Can I ask you a question?” Tim asked, leaning forward as much as he non-restrained restrained body could.

Doctor Hurt cocked his head to the side, “Sure, Timothy. Ask a question, and I will help you answer it.”

“Why do you care about me? Why have you been following me? I’m nothing, I’m no one, so why are you doing this to me?”

“You think I care about you?” Doctor Hurt asked.

Tim nodded.

“Try again, Timothy.” Doctor Hurt smiled, “You’re important, but you’re not the one. You’re good at strategy, I’m sure you can figure this out.”

Tim closed his eyes, trying to block out the sound of the metronome. Closing his eyes also helped stop him from watching the knife spinning. It was easier to organize him thoughts when he wasn’t focused on the knife, it didn’t make him dizzy either.

Doctor Hurt surprised him, brought him into whatever this was. He was doing something to Tim, that much he knew. He’d pried into Tim’s life, ripped the secrets from his mind, and tried to take Tim apart with them. There was just one thing that was different, the only thing that stood out was Jason.

Tim’s eyes flew open, and he met Doctor Hurt's from across the table. Doctor Hurt smiled, as if he knew that Tim had figured it out.

“You want Jason.” Tim said softly, “But why?”

“I don’t want Jason alone, I’m much more interested in the family as a whole.” Doctor Hurt said, “I didn’t know much about Jason Todd, so imagine my surprise when someone whom I can use against him falls into my lap. The rest of the Wayne family has weaknesses, things they would sacrifice themselves for, but Jason was an unknown. He isn’t any longer.”

“Jason doesn’t care about me.” Tim shook his head, “We barely know each other. Why would I work better against Jason than someone in his own family? His own _brothers_?”

“The heart wants what it wants, Timothy.” Doctor Hurt smiled.

Jason’s heart…wanted him?

No.

Doctor Hurt was clearly insane, he had no idea what he was talking about.

“How would you feel if Jason wanted you?” Doctor Hurt asked, “More than a friend, I mean.”

Tim’s throat tightened, “I’d feel…happy. I’d feel happy, for once. Jason’s an asshole, but he’s not vicious. I don’t think he’d hurt me, and it would feel nice to be wanted for once. I’ve never…been with anyone. I wouldn’t know what to do, and I’d probably destroy it all. I’d be scared, terrified of breaking Jason. I’d be scared, terrified of breaking myself.”

“What if I wanted you to break Jason, Timothy?” Doctor Hurt asked.

“I wouldn’t.” Tim answered, he knew it deep inside. “I wouldn’t let you.”

“You wouldn’t let me?” Doctor Hurt’s mouth turned to a snarl, “Do you think people let me make them do things? If I wanted you to destroy Jason Todd you would. If I wanted you to kiss him, to take him to bed, and then slide a dagger in his heart then you would. If I wanted you to cover yourself in his blood, you would.”

“No.” Tim yelled, as loud as he could, “No, you wouldn’t! I would never let you make me do anything to anyone! You’re nothing, you’re a psychopath who uses toys and tricks to get inside people’s heads, and maybe you could get someone weaker than me to do whatever you wanted, but I’m not your puppet. You can make me tell you anything, but I’d never hurt anyone for you!”

“The students who killed so many people at your school thought the same thing, and all it took was a little song to make them change their minds.” Doctor Hurt reached out and snatched the knife from the table, he flipped it around in his hand, “Your little headmaster didn’t want to let me into the school, but all it took was a bit of persuasion to give me free roam of the student body. People never want to do what I tell them to, but they do it anyway.”

Tim knew, distantly at least, that Doctor Hurt was the person who was responsible for the school shooting. It made sense now, especially after what he’d just gone through. Post-hypnotic suggestion was real, it wasn’t a stretch to think that Doctor Hurt could have created these sleeper agents and put them in the school.

And he’d done it all just to get at the Wayne family.

One puzzle solved, and another one presented.

Tim gritted his teeth, his eyes tracking the movement of the knife in Doctor Hurt’s knife. Tim wasn’t like the rest of them. He wasn’t an average student, or a stressed-out secretary. He was Timothy Drake, and Timothy Drake would not let someone else control his actions.

“You. Are. Not. Going. To. Control. Me.” Tim growled, he could feel himself straining at the invisible restraints. There were red marks being etched into his skin.

“You don’t get to decide that!” Doctor Hurt screamed, flipping the chair backwards as he stood, “There has only been one person who has ever resisted me, and you are nothing compared to him. He resisted me, and I still won in the end! Do you know what I did to him, Timothy?”

“No.” Tim struggled against the words, he was fucking done with this entire conversation.

“I blew him up.” Doctor Hurt laughed, “He resisted me, and I turned him to _ashes_.”

“Blew him up…” Tim trained off.

_Bruce Wayne._

“I am done with this!” Tim glared, “I am done with you!”

“You don’t get to decide that, Timothy.” Doctor Hurt smiled.

Tim watched as Doctor Hurt held up his hand, and then he pressed the blade of his knife into his palm. He pulled it slowly across his own palm, a river of blood overflowing from below his skin. Doctor Hurt didn’t flinch, didn’t show any sign of pain. He dropped the knife when he was done, it clattered to the floor and began to spin in a circle again, this time flicking blood around the room as it went.

Doctor Hurt pulled a crisp white tissue out of his pocket, he drug it across his wound to clean the blood away and when he dropped it to the ground Tim saw that Doctor Hurt's hand was healing itself. He watched as Doctor Hurt’s skin put itself back together, closing over the wound right in front of his eyes.

“I am so much more than you will ever be, Timothy.” Doctor Hurt whispered, “And you cannot resist me.”

Tim took a deep breath, summoned every ounce of strength he had left inside of him, and kicked the table in front of him. He felt the invisible restraints on his body break away as the heel of his foot crashed into the coffee table, and he opened his eyes just in time to see the table flip and the metronome fall to the ground.

“Like hell I can’t.” Tim flung himself from the couch at the same time the metronome hit the ground.

The metronome shattered to pieces the instant it touched the floor, flying off in hundreds of broken shards like a crystal glass. A metronome shouldn’t shatter like that, but Tim had given up on paying attention to things that weren’t normal when it came to Doctor Hurt.

Doctor Hurt stood frozen, “Timothy, you’re going to regret this moment until the day you die.”

Doctor Hurt was in front of him.

Tim blinked.

Doctor Hurt was gone.

Tim pushed himself up from the ground and looked around the room. It was completely normal. There was no blood, no knife, no shattered metronome. The red marks on his wrist were gone, the coffee table hadn’t moved an inch.

Tim took a deep breath, walked to the door, and opened it.

He stepped out into the hallway, and then everything went black.

 

X

 

Jason looked up at the clock for what felt like the hundredth time that minute. His foot tapped against the leg of his desk repeatedly, and as the minute hand crossed the final threshold Jason lost all pretense of being calm and collected.

Tim had been gone for over an hour.

Something didn’t seem right. Jason hadn’t gotten this far in his life as a Bird, a Bat, or a Hood without being able to tell when something was wrong. And something was certainly wrong with this entire thing. Jason might not have known Tim as well as he wanted to, but he knew enough to know that Tim wasn’t the kind of kid that willingly missed large chunks of class.

He knew Tim wasn’t the type of kid to randomly ditch in the middle of the day, especially when his things were still in the classroom. He’d seen how tight Tim held onto his stuff, he was certain Tim wouldn’t leave anything behind if he wanted to ditch.

Something wasn’t right, and Jason couldn’t sit around and do nothing anymore. He stood up from his desk, his chair scraping against the floor as he did. Every head in the classroom turned around to look at him, the teacher turned from the board and glared at him.

“Is there something wrong, Mr. Todd?”

Jason barely paid him any attention, he couldn’t even remember the guys name, “I’ve gotta go.”

“Excuse me? Where do you think you’re going?”

Jason didn’t bother bringing his things, “I’m going to find Tim.”

“Mr. Drake is with the headmaster. You will sit down this instant.”

Jason looked at him from the corner of his eye, “Yeah, no. Not happening.”

“Mr. Todd, if you walk out that door you will be responsible for the consequences of your actions.”

“That’s never bothered me before.” Jason said, opening the door and stepping out into the hallway.

The teacher was yelling something as Jason left, but he slammed the door on the guy mid-rant. He’d just have Dick make up some excuse for him later, it was one of the only good things about having your brother teach at the same place you went to school.

There was no sign of Tim in the hallway, not that Jason expected there to be. He did have a good idea where to start, the teacher said Tim had gone to the Headmaster, so that’s where Jason was going too. The classroom wasn’t that far from the staircase, he made his way down, passing through the sophomore and freshman floors until he was back on the first level.

It was much easier, and quicker, to navigate the school when you weren’t worried about someone shooting you in the back.

The central office was empty except for the secretaries at their desks, Jason marched straight past them and ignored their shouts for him to stop. He wrenched the door to the Headmaster’s office open and met his startled gaze with his own steely one.

“Mr. Todd?” The Headmaster gaped, “What on earth do you think you’re doing?”

“Where is he?” Jason demanded.

The Headmaster looked at Jason like he’d grown a second head, “Who?”

“Tim!” Jason hissed, “Where is Tim Drake?”

The Headmaster blinked, “Mr. Drake? How am I supposed to know that?”

Jason stepped inside the office, “Because you’re the one who called him down here, he’s been gone for over an hour and you were the last person to see him?”

“What exactly are you insinuating, Mr. Todd?”

“I’m not insinuating anything, I just want to know where Tim is.”

The Headmaster pinched the bridge of his nose, “Not that I have to explain myself to you, but I simply called Mr. Drake down here because I wanted to speak with him about an exciting opportunity for an upcoming college application.”

Jason stared at the man dumbfounded, “You called Tim out of class because you wanted to talk to him about a college application? You’ve got to be kidding me, why wouldn’t you just wait until after school?”

Jason didn’t buy it, it made zero logical sense.

The Headmaster looked startled, “I…I don’t know?”

“You don’t know?” Jason growled, “What the hell do you mean by that?”

The Headmaster ignored him, “Please remove yourself from my office, Mr. Todd. I will not be able to overlook your behavior for much longer, my sympathy for your family is running out very quickly.”

Jason restrained a flurry of curse words, just barely, because it would waste time in his search for Tim. He marched out of the central office and back into the hallway, looking to the left and right for any sign of Tim.

There was no sign of Tim.

Jason balled his hands into fists and held them to his side to keep from punching the closest wall. There was something wrong, he could feel it. It settled onto his shoulders like an unexplained weight, the back of his neck prickled when he thought about Tim. Something wasn’t right, and Jason was positive that wherever Tim was, he wasn’t safe.

Jason had two options. One, he could tear the school apart looking for Tim, assuming Tim was even in the school to begin with. Two, he could go to the one person who would be able to find Tim quickly, at the risk of opening himself up for scrutiny further down the line.

Jason turned and walked towards the library.

He pushed open the double doors of the library and zeroed in on Barbara. She was behind the reception desk, her hair pulled up into a messy bun as she cataloged books or whatever the fuck she did when she wasn’t hacking into the accounting systems of terrorist cells from the school Wi-Fi.

Barbara looked up at him, confusion splashed across her face, “Jason? Shouldn’t you be in class?”

Jason waved the question away, “Dick can deal with that later. Something’s wrong and I need your help.”

Barbara sat down the book abruptly, her relaxed face quickly transforming into Oracle’s serious one, “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Tim. I don’t know where he is.” Jason said, walking around the reception desk and stopping next to Barbara.

“You’re…worried about Tim?” Barbara asked, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

“Something’s not right. He was called out of class an hour ago by the Headmaster, but the Headmaster said he only wanted to talk to him about some stupid fucking college applications, which is not something that Headmaster Tightass would pull a student out of class for.” Jason explained, “I don’t trust it.”

“When did you talk to the Headmaster?” Barbara asked.

Jason shrugged, “About two minutes ago when I walked out of class and into his office.”

Barbara tipped her head backwards and sighed, “Oh no. _Jason_.”

“ _Babs_ , you have to trust me.” Jason was as close to begging as he ever got, “You know I don’t do shit half-cocked for no reason. I have a bad feeling about this, what if Tim was taken by Black Mask and we’re just sitting here arguing over my behavior? I just need your help to find him, we both know I can hack into the security feeds in the school myself, but it’ll take me twice the amount of time it would take for you to just pull them up for me.”

“Dick is going to kill you.” Barbara said, but she turned her chair towards her actual office and headed towards it, “And then he’s going to kill me, and you better believe that in our eternity together in the afterlife I’m going to be the biggest, naggiest, I-told-you-so ever.”

“Thank you.” Jason said seriously, “I’m not wrong about this, Babs.”

Barbara sighed, but she pulled up her computer and logged into the school’s security system, “I know you’re not, Jay. You said he left your class about an hour ago?”

“Yeah.” Jason said.

Barbara pulled up the camera feed in front of Jason and Tim’s classroom. The cameras were small, almost completely hidden so the students didn’t feel like they were being monitored all the time. Lucky for them, Babs had complete control over them without anyone knowing. It came in handy when she needed to delete security footage of teenagers taking on armed assailants.

Barbara scrubbed through the footage until the door of the classroom opened, Tim stood in the middle of it and Jason could see Tim look back and flash him the same smile he had right before he left the room. Tim walked out into the hallway, and Barbara switched the screen to the camera right above the staircase. Tim made his way down the stairs, and Barbara switched from camera to camera as Tim walked to the central office.

That’s where things got interesting.

The feed from the office showed Tim and the Headmaster close to arguing, Jason recognized the annoyed slant of Tim’s eyebrows, and the almost snarl on his lips.

“That doesn’t look like they were talking about college applications.” Barbara pointed out.

“No it does not.”

Tim’s shoulders slumped, defeated, and he turned and headed back out into the hallway.

“Where’s he going?” Jason asked.

The cameras followed Tim until he stopped outside of the Teacher’s Lounge.

“The grief counselor?” Barbara cocked her head to the side.

“Seriously?” Jason shook his head, “What the hell is up with that?”

“Don’t ask me.” Barbara said, “He sprung it on everyone this morning, there was no discussion with any faculty or staff. Dick had no idea either.”

“I don’t like it.” Jason said, “The Headmaster lied to me.”

“Let’s just see what happened inside.” Barbara said, tapping a few keys on the keyboard.

Nothing happened.

Barbara frowned, typed a string of letters and numbers into the computer, and then hit enter.

Nothing happened.

“I don’t understand.” Barbara muttered.

“Babs? What’s wrong?” Jason asked.

“There’s no camera in the lounge. At least, that’s what the computer is telling me.” Barbara looked up at him, “I know there’s a camera in the lounge through, the Headmaster and I fought about having it installed.”

“Someone disconnected the camera?” Jason was ready to storm the room.

“No. The camera isn’t disconnected, it _doesn’t exist_.”

“How is that possible?”

Barbara looked at him, “It isn’t.”

“I’m going in there. Now.” Jason turned, but Barbara grabbed him by the arm.

“You don’t know who’s in there, it could be suicide to rush in on your own.” Barbara pulled the camera outside the lounge up again, “The only way out of the lounge is through that door, let’s just wait and see happens on the camera before you do anything rash.”

“We might not have time to wait!”

Barbara ignored him, increasing the playback speed of the camera. Jason watched as the numbers zipped by on the upper corner of the screen, and after nearly an hour had passed on the timecode of the video, the door to the lounge opened.

Tim stepped out into the hallway, and he looked terrible.

He somehow looked even more pale, his eyes were almost vacantly blank, and there were deep, dark circles under them. Barbara zoomed in on him, and Jason could see that he was shaking. He didn’t look like he was seriously injured, but he was completely out of it.

“What the fuck?” Jason whispered, “Babs, what the fuck?”

“I don’t know.” Barbara shook her head, “Let’s find out where he went.”

Tim stood rooted in place for almost five minutes, and then he blinked a few times before turning and heading down the hallway. The time code in the video was getting closer to real time, so wherever Tim went it couldn’t have been too far.

“He’s still in the school.” Barbara pulled up a bank of camera, clicking through each one until she found Tim, “There he is.”

Barbara pulled up one of the cameras in the auditorium, and Jason could just barely make out Tim’s form sitting on the ground in the darkened room. He was pressed into the corner, his fingers pulling at his hair as he rocked back and forth.

“I’m going.” Jason said.

Barbara pushed herself away from the desk, “Go get him, and take him somewhere safe.”

Jason nodded, “Thank you.”

“I’ll take care of the school, and Dick.” Barbara said, “Just…see if you can find out from Tim what happened. I’m going to see if I can pull Damian and Stephanie from class, I’ll update you as I go.”

Jason knew he could always count of Babs.

Jason ran down the hallway, slamming into the double doors as he burst into the dark auditorium. He fumbled blindly against the wall until he found the light switched, and flicked one on at random that turned on half the lights in the room.

Tim was in the back corner, his knees pulled up to his chest. His hands were out of his hair now, just wrapped around his legs like he was hugging himself. He wasn’t rocking anymore, instead he stared vacantly off into space.

“Tim!” Jason yelled, running towards him.

Tim didn’t react, not even when Jason dropped down into a crouch in front of him. Jason held out a hand, hesitantly hovering in front of Tim’s knee. He didn’t know what happened to Tim, but he could tell that Tim was obviously badly shaken. He didn’t want to risk setting Tim off.

“Tim?” Jason said softly, “Tim, it’s Jason, can you hear me?”

Tim didn’t say anything.

Jason sighed, dragging a hand through his hair, “I’m glad I found you. You scared the shit out of me man.”

Tim’s head inclined, the movement would have been impossible to see if Jason hadn’t been looking for it.

“There you are.” Jason smiled softly, “Glad to see you’re still with me, Little Prince.”

Tim looked up at Jason, meeting his eyes, “Jason?”

“Yeah.” Jason said, “It’s me. Are you OK?”

Tim’s eyes looked less cloudy, more focused, and his skin seemed to have a bit more color on it, “I don’t know?”

“Can I touch you?” Jason asked.

Tim looked surprised by the question, but he nodded anyway. Jason reached out slowly to grab Tim’s hand, and his skin was icy cold to the touch. Jason gently turned Tim’s hand over and rested two fingers on Tim’s pulse, trying to check his heartrate.

It was steady, which was good. Tim might just be in some kind of shock.

Jason lightly trailed his hands down Tim’s wrist and into the palm of his hand, rubbing a soothing circle in it.

Tim’s entire body shuddered.

“Jason.” Tim whispered, his voice cracking halfway through Jason’s name.

“What is it?” Jason asked.

“Don’t leave me.” Tim whispered, turning his head away.

Jason could see the red blooming on Tim’s cheeks.

“I won’t.” Jason said as seriously as he could, “I promise.”

“Thank you.”

“No problem.” Jason smiled, “What do you say we get out of here, huh?”

Tim nodded.

Jason stood, and then extended a hand down to Tim to help him up. Tim took the hand immediately, and Jason pulled him up until he was standing with both feet on the ground. Tim didn’t immediately drop his hand, and Jason didn’t say anything about it.

“Can you walk?” Jason asked.

Tim dropped his hand, and then took an unsteady step forward, “Yeah.”

Jason walked slowly, as close to Tim as he possibly could in case he tripped or stumbled. They made their way out of the auditorium, and it was just a straight shot to the front doors of the school. Jason wasn’t sure where they’d go after that, but he’d worry about that problem once they got to it.

“Tim?” Jason said when they were about halfway down the hall, “Can you tell me what happened to you?”

Tim stopped walking. Jason turned to see him standing in the middle of the hall, his eyes squeezed shut as he rubbed his temples. His face was contorted it, like he was in pain, and he let out a low whimper before opening his eyes again.

“I can’t remember.” Tim said, looking at Jason with terrified eyes, “Jason, I can’t remember anything.”

Tim was starting to freak out now. His breathing was growing more rapid, coming in short, quick bursts. He was starting to hyperventilate.

“Tim, you’ve gotta try and calm down for me, OK? We’ll be out of here in a second.”

Jason’s words were pointless, right after he finished, Tim’s eyes rolled back into his head and he fell forward.

“Shit!” Jason cursed, darting forward to catch him.

Jason caught Tim before he hit the ground, dropping to his knees and cradling Tim’s head in his hands so he didn’t break it open on the wood floor. He desperately hoped no one decided to walk out into the hallway, he was at a loss for how he would try to explain this.

“You better not be making a habit out of this.” Jason sighed, using his lower body strength to push himself and Tim up from the ground. He scooped Tim’s legs up and carried him, bridal style, out the front doors of the school for the second time.

It was faster to get there than it would have been to go back to Babs, and at least Jason could call a car from outside.

A sleek black car was parked in front of the gates of the school, the driver’s door opened as soon as Jason made it down the front steps of the school.

Alfred stood on the other side of the gate.

“Master Jason.” Alfred said, not even slightly startled by the unconscious body in Jason’s arms.

Jason felt relieved, “Oh my god. You don’t know how happy I am to see you, Alf.”

“Yes.” Alfred said, holding the gate open while Jason stepped through, taking extra care not to hit Tim’s head on one of the bars, “Miss Barbara called, she said you might be needing a ride home from school earlier than anticipated. Luckily I was in the area.”

“Luckily.” Jason said wryly, “Dunno how I’d explain this to anyone else.”

“Miss Barbara also mentioned you might have a companion with you.” Alfred opened the back door of the car, “I presume this is the young Mister Drake?”

“He might be young, but he’s heavy.” Jason grunted, sliding Tim’s unconscious body into the back of the car as gently as possible.

“Is there somewhere you’d like me to take you, Master Jason?” Alfred asked, stepping around the front of the car and sliding into the driver’s seat.

Jason slid into the back of the car, buckling himself in next to Tim’s body. He tried to think of where to go. He could take Tim back to his apartment building, but he didn’t have any of Tim’s things which meant there wouldn’t be a straightforward way to get into Tim’s apartment itself. Plus, one of Tim’s doormen was almost Alfred level scary, and Jason didn’t think there was a way to explain what was happening that didn’t involve a visit from the police.

There was only once place that Jason could think of that was completely safe.

“Yeah, Alf.” Jason said, watching the slow rise and fall of Tim’s chest, “Take us back to the Manor.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i keep forgetting to put this, but you can find me on tumblr if you want lmao lscar123.tumblr.com 
> 
> i edited this super quickly myself, so if there's any mistakes left oops
> 
> hope you liked the chapter, i look forward to the comments!


	11. Manor

 

 

 

 

11

Manor

 

Tim was lost in the darkness.

He was trapped by it, sinking deeper and deeper into its embrace as it pulled him under. Everywhere he turned he felt the invisible hands of the dark on his body, grasping as his wrists, his ankles, doing anything it could to knock him off balance just so it could pull him in.

His skin didn’t feel right, it almost felt like it was buzzing. It felt like there was an electric current running underneath his skin, one that threatened to shock anyone that touched him.

Distantly, Tim wondered if this was what Livewire felt like.

The darkness around him didn’t have a shape. It wasn’t so much a place as it was a _thing_. It was living, breathing, and Tim knew it was waiting to swallow him whole.

“Hello?” Tim called out, turning his head to the side and listening as his voice echoed across a vast cavern of nothingness.

There was no other sound in the darkness, it was unnerving, but at least it wasn’t filled with the sound of an endless metronome or grains of sand falling through an hourglass.

“Well, well, well, look what we have here.”

Tim stilled as a familiar voice came from behind him, it’s dry sarcasm evident even through the vocal modulator of his helmet. Tim turned slowly and found the Red Hood standing in front of him, his gleaming red helmet the sole source of color in the wasteland of darkness.

“Hood!” Tim gasped, “You’re here!”

“The better question is: why are you here?” The Red Hood cocked his head to the side, the whites of the eyes on his hood focusing in on him, “How did my Little Prince find himself lost in the darkness?”

Tim felt himself flush, “I’m not _your_ anything.”

Hood took a step forward, “Maybe not, but we both know you want to be. It’s pretty obvious, even from behind the hood.”

The Red Hood reached up towards his face, a gloved finger tapping the side of the helmet. A metallic thumping sound rang out, echoing around the darkness.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Tim’s tongue felt heavy in his mouth, he didn’t trust himself to say anything else.

“Of course you do!” Mechanical laughter taunted Tim, “The only thing I can’t figure out is _why_. You let me into your house, Timmy. Are you that alone? You that desperate for any type of attention that you’d let a crazy guy who dresses up in a mask and shoots people into your apartment with no way to defend yourself? I could snap you like a twig and you couldn’t do anything to stop me.”

Tim’s blood ran cold, “Shut up! Stop talking!”

Tim could almost see a smile from behind the Hood, “Oh? Did I hit a nerve?”

“I said shut up!” Tim yelled, he cringed at how desperate his voice sounded.

“I really am curious, Timmy! I wish you’d tell me!” The Red Hood laughed again, “Are you just desperate for a friend, or are you desperate for something more? Are you hoping that one day I’ll trust you enough to take this bucket off my head and show you who I am? Are you hoping we could get closer with less walls between us? Do you think of me touching you, Timmy? Or do you think of touching me? I can go either way, honestly. I’m not picky.”

Tim turned on his heel and ran away from the Red Hood. He pushed his body to its limit, he could hear the echo of his feet hitting the ground as it ran, it boomed around him like thunder. None of it was loud enough to block out the taunting laughter from the Red Hood though. It seemed like no matter how far Tim ran, he couldn’t get away from it. Every time he looked over his shoulder, the Hood was right where he’d left him.

Tim ran.

Tim ran.

Tim ran.

Tim ran until he reached the edge of the darkness, tumbling over it and into nothing.

Tim fell.

Tim fell.

Tim fell.

 

X

 

Tim woke with a gasp, struggling against the horrible feeling of falling.

It felt too real.

His heart was hammering in his chest, and he was almost too afraid to open his eyes. He was worried he’d open them to see the world rushing past them, that he’d open them just in time to realize he was about to die.

Tim opened his eyes, and he wasn’t met with the sight of the world flying by in his peripheral vision. Instead, he was met with something even more confusing. Tim looked up at the unfamiliar ceiling above him, blinked as he watched an unfamiliar fan spin in a lazy circle.

It was then that Tim realized he wasn’t in his bed. The bed he was in now was too soft, it pulled him down into it and hugged him like a cloud. The sheets were unfamiliar too, they felt far too smooth. He realized, after a few moments of running his hand over them and seeing how the skin of his palm glided effortlessly across the fabric, that the sheets were made of silk. They were red, a red that was so deep it was almost the color of blood.

Tim’s head was still spinning, but he sat up in the bed anyway. He looked down at himself and saw that he was still in his NGPA uniform, but his tie was gone, and the first two buttons of the shirt were undone. His shoes and socks were gone as well, all he was wearing were his dress pants and his untucked button up shirt.

He looked around the room, and if Tim thought his room at his old home was gigantic, this room blew it out of the water. It managed to look both immaculate and completely lived in, the ceilings were vaulted, and there was a large window on the right-hand wall of the room that looked out over an impressive garden. There was a plush bench built into the window, big enough for anyone to comfortably curl up into it and look out over the grounds of wherever the hell Tim was. There was a paperback book on the bench, open and with the pages facing downwards like someone had just been reading it and had placed it like that after getting up so they wouldn’t lose their place.

Tim pushed himself out of the bed, stumbling a bit as his head started spinning at the sudden change. He staggered towards the wall, catching himself as he leaned sideways with a single hand. It hit the wall with a louder sound that wanted, and Tim felt the hollow thump echo in his head for a few moments. He closed his eyes to fight off the spinning feeling, took a few deep breaths, and opened them again once it felt like his world wasn’t about to tip off its axis.

Tim looked to the left and saw a large oak desk, there was a laptop in the center of it, and the rest of the space was taken up by hardcover books and picture frames. The chair of the desk was pulled out, and Tim finally noticed that his tie was draped over the back of it, his shoes and socks were arranged in a neat row at the foot of the bed, and his bag was hanging off the side of the chair by one of its straps.

Tim still had no idea where he was or how he’d gotten there. He should be worried, terrified even, but something inside of Tim told him that he was safe. Tim knew that he hadn’t just woken up in the lair of a serial killer.

He walked over to the desk, ignoring the rest of his things as he reached out for one of the picture frames on the desk. He picked one up at random, pulled it closer to his face so he could see it, and immediately stilled.

The picture was of Jason. He was younger, his face was rounder than it was now, he was missing the shock of white in his hair, and he didn’t have nearly the amount of muscle tone that the current Jason Todd did, but it was unmistakably Jason. There was someone else in the picture with Jason too, Bruce Wayne.

It looked like a picture taken at a zoo or circus, there were strangers in the background of the photo, but the subject of it was clearly Jason and Bruce. Bruce was wearing a dark overcoat, and Jason was in a sweater that probably had more holes than fabric, but they both looked happy. Jason’s face was split into a grin, he had a stuffed animal lofted over his head like he’d just won it, and there was an unmistakable look of fondness of Bruce’s face as he looked down at the smaller Jason Todd.

Tim looked at the picture for another second, and then slowly reached down and put it back on the desk. He took great care to place it in the exact spot he’d found it in, for some reason it felt like he was trespassing into Jason’s private life by looking at the picture.

He didn’t investigate any of the other pictures fully, but he could see glimpses of Jason with both of his brothers, and there was one of Jason and a woman who looked like a younger Ms. Gordon, though she wasn’t in a wheelchair and she had Jason in a headlock.

Tim paused as he heard footsteps on the hardwood floor outside the room, and a few moments later a pair of voices drifted from the other side of the door.

“Master Jason is there anything else you require?” A man asked, his British accent unmistakable.

“Nah, I think we’re good. Thanks, Alf.” Jason’s reply was softer than Tim had ever heard his voice sound before.

The knob on the door began to turn, and Tim stood rooted in place. His brain was working slowly, and he was half tempted to dive back towards the bed and pretend like he was still asleep. He still didn’t understand how he’d gotten from school to Jason’s home, or why he was sleeping in Jason Todd’s bed. Before Tim could decide what to do, the door opened softly, and Tim blinked as he stared directly at Jason. Jason’s lips parted slightly, and his eyes darted from Tim’s face to the hand that hovered over one of the photos on his desk.

“Jason.” Tim said, in absence of anything else to say.

Jason arched an eyebrow, “You're awake?”

“Hey,” Tim said awkwardly, “What’s up?”

Tim took a step backwards as Jason took one forward. There was a water bottle in his hand, and Jason sat it on the edge of the desk as he moved past it. He was watching Tim with concern, it looked like Jason thought he would collapse without warning.

“You tell me.” Jason said, “How do you feel?”

“I feel confused.” Tim said, pinched the bridge of his nose.

His head was pounding now. He felt like he was in an old cartoon, and some animal had just clapped him in the head with two cast-iron pans. He took another step backwards and his knees hit the edge of the large bed, it was enough of an invitation to get Tim to sit down on it.

“Here, take these.” Jason said, handing Tim a small cup with two white pills in it.

Tim slowly took the pills from Jason, and Jason picked the water bottle back up and thrust it in Tim’s direction. Tim grabbed the water bottle and drank from it, but he eyed the pills dubiously.

Jason must have noticed Tim’s apprehension, he rolled his eyes, “They’re just aspirin.”

Tim looked up at Jason dryly, “Forgive me. I was always taught to never take candy from strangers, especially strangers whose silk sheets I wake up in.”

“Silk sheets promote a healthy night’s sleep.” Jason said defensively.

Tim held both hands up in surrender, “I judge not.”

Jason didn’t look like he was buying it.

Tim was totally judging him.

“Asshole.” Jason muttered as he pulled the chair out from under his desk and sat it directly across from Tim, he turned it around so he was straddling it when he sat, both of his arms draped over the high back, “What do you remember?”

Tim blinked at him, “What do you mean?”

Jason looked annoyed, but he quickly recovered and took a deep breath as he closed his eyes, his eyes were softer when he opened them a moment later, “What do you remember after being called out of class this morning?”

“This morning?” Tim gasped, whipping his head around the room to try and find a clock, “Jason, what time is it right now?”  

“A few minutes past seven.” Jason said, “You’ve been asleep for about ten hours.”

Tim’s mouth went dry, and the throbbing pain in the center of his forehead seemed to intensify. He could still see Jason in front of him, but it was like everything else in the room melted away. His chest started heaving at the same time he felt his airways constricting. His hands were shaking, and the pills that were in the small cup Tim still had in his hand clattered to the floor.

“Tim?” Jason’s voice sounded miles away.

Jason stood from the chair and momentarily disappeared into the blackness of Tim’s vision, but Tim felt the bed dip next to him. He didn’t say anything, but a few moments later he felt a pair of strong arms circle around him. Tim thought he gasped when the arms pulled him closer, but the warm feeling of the arms around him were more comfortable than anything. Tim’s face was pulled into a broad chest, and he felt a hand begin to rub a soothing circle into his back.

“C’mon, Tim. Breathe for me.” Jason said.

Tim took a shuddering breath, and the blackness on the edges of his vision faded away. He could see Jason now, or rather, he could see Jason’s chin where it was tucked against the top of his head if he looked up. If he looked forward he could see the dip of Jason’s clavicle, and if he looked sideways he could see Jason’s bicep flex as his hand continued to rub a circle into Tim’s back.

“Jason?” Tim whispered, just to be sure.

“Yeah.” Jason’s voice was gruff, “Are you OK?”

Tim almost didn’t want to answer, because he knew when he did that Jason’s arms would leave him, and he wasn’t quite ready for that to happen. He didn’t move for a moment, just watched the goosebumps ripple on Jason’s skin where his breath hit it, and let Jason comfort him for another minute.

When it was starting to feel excessive, Tim answered, “Yeah.”

Jason nodded, the movement pushing Tim’s head down a little bit. His arms unwrapped from around Tim, the bed shifted as he stood, and he once again took his seat in front of Tim. Jason’s posture was more casual, less stiff and demanding than it was before Tim freaked out.

“Sorry.” Tim said awkwardly, “I didn’t expect that to happen. The last time I was asleep for that long was after my parents…it was just a shock. Whatever you did helped. Thanks.”

“It’s OK.” Jason cleared his throat, “I just copied what Dick used to do to me when I was younger and had panic attacks after moving in.”

Tim met Jason’s eyes. Neither of them flinched or looked away, even though they’d both just given up a delicate truth.

Tim broke the stare by rubbing the heels of his palms into his eyes, “I don’t remember anything from this morning. The last thing I remember if getting called out of class, and then I woke up here.”

Tim didn’t mention the nightmare, that wasn’t something Jason needed to know.

Jason’s chin hooked over the back of the chair, “You don’t remember talking to the Headmaster?”

Tim shook his head.

“You don’t remember going into the teachers lounge to talk with the grief counselor?”

Tim reared back, “No? Jason, what the hell? How do you know all this and I don’t?”

Jason was silent for a moment before he answered, “I asked around.”

“You asked around?” Tim scoffed, “And how did I go from the school to your bedroom? That’s what I want to know.”

“I got worried when you didn’t come back to class after an hour, so I walked out of class and went to look for you.”

“You walked out of class?”

Jason nodded.

“To find me?”

Jason nodded, “And I found you sitting on the floor of the auditorium in the dark.”

“I don’t remember any of this.” Tim felt himself starting to panic again, “Why can’t I remember any of this?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.” Jason said, “You passed out when I was trying to get you out of the school.”

“How did we get here?” Tim asked.

“Alfred picked us up and brought us home.” Jason shrugged casually.

“Alfred?” Tim didn’t remember ever meeting an Alfred.

“Our butler.” Jason said.

Because that made sense.

“We both just left school?” Tim pinched the bridge of his nose, “Oh god, they’re going to think I’m a delinquent.”

Tim was going to start working on a theory that NGPA was cursed.

“Nah, I had Dick give us a good excuse. They eat up anything he says, can’t resist that dumb ass smile.” Jason rolled his eyes, “Damian picked up our stuff from the classroom, you might want to check your bag for a hidden weapon or two, I’ve already found a knife in mine.”

“Hidden weapons?” Tim stared at him.

Jason shrugged again, “What can I say? The demon brat has a twisted sense of humor, it’s his idea of a prank since no one ever taught him what an actual one was.”

Tim decided to drop the whole Damian leaving weapons in his bag as a prank thing since he had too many other things to focus on.

“Why would I need to talk to the grief counselor?” Tim wondered out loud, “Everything happened on my first day of school, it wasn’t like I was attached to anyone who died. They weren’t my friends, so why should I need to talk to someone about it?”

Jason whistled, “That’s a little cold.”

“Not cold,” Tim answered quickly, “it’s just a fact. Yes, it’s terrible that people died, but I didn’t know any of them. I suppose an argument could be made that I should speak to someone in case I was reminded of what happened to my parents, but I certainly wouldn’t see a school appointed grief counselor because of it. It doesn’t make sense, and I don’t like things that don't make sense.”

Jason laughed, “Slow down there, detective.”

“I don’t want to slow down, Jason!” Tim spat, “I want to find out what happened to me!”

“Hey,” Jason held both his hands up, “we’re going to find out what happened to you, OK?”

Tim scoffed, “Really? What are you going to do about it?”

“Hey!” Jason glared at him, “How about you dial back the attitude? You’d still be rocking back and forth in the dark if it wasn’t for me, so try not to bite my god damn head off.”

Tim fell back on the bed, groaning and wishing he could roll over and smother himself with one of Jason’s down feather pillows, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s just…hard. Knowing something happened to me but not knowing what it was.”

“I get it.” Jason’s voice got closer, Tim opened his eyes to find Jason standing over him, “You’re probably hungry, let’s go eat.”

“Eat?” Tim sat up, noticing the way his stomach rumbled at the thought of food.

“Alfred just finished dinner.” Jason’s half smile was back on his face, “The old man can cook a hell of meal, you haven’t lived until you’ve tried his curry.”

“Is that what he made?” Tim asked.

Jason shook his head, “Not tonight.”

“Oh.” Tim frowned.

“You’ll just have to try it another night.” Jason said, abruptly turning his back to Tim and heading towards the door to his room.

Was that an invitation?

Tim pushed himself off the bed and followed Jason out into the hallway. He didn’t know where he was going, so he stuck as close to Jason as he possibly could. They walked pasts rows of rooms, avoided turns down other hallways, and finally came to a grand staircase. Wayne Manor resembled something like a labyrinth, but Jason navigated it with ease.

The closer they got to the kitchen, the more enticing the smell got. It wafted down the corridor they were in, and Tim could see a bevy of stainless-steel appliances through the doorway at the end of the hall. Tim could smell spices, heavy and thick in the air like nothing he’d ever smelled before.

“That smells amazing.” Tim sighed, “What is it?”

“Alf decided to make his famous chicken noddle soup and cornbread tonight.” Jason said, steering Tim into a large open room with a gigantic table in the middle of it.

“Where is it famous?” Tim asked.

Jason looked over his shoulder, smirking at Tim, “In his own head.”

That startled a laugh out of Tim, and Jason’s smirk grew into a full smile. He turned back around and led Tim through the large room, past the grand table, and into a smaller room with a smaller, but equally as expensive looking, table. There were six chairs around the table, but there were only places sat for four.

The head of the table was empty, but Mr. Grayson and Damian sat next to each other on the left side of the table.

Mr. Grayson looked up at the sound of them approaching, smiling, “Jay! Oh, and you have Tim with you.”

Damian looked up, his eyes zeroing in on Tim, “Ah, I see. Drake did not, in fact, die in his sleep.”

Tim huffed out a laugh, “Gee, don’t sound so happy about it.”

Damian shrugged, “I am happy that we do not have to deal with the press it would bring.”

Tim looked at Jason, who shrugged, “Small victories, I guess.”

Mr. Grayson stood up from the table, he stepped in front of Tim and dropped a large hand onto his shoulder, squeezing, “I’m glad you’re OK, Tim. You had us all worried.”

Damian scoffed, but Tim ignored him, “Thanks, Mr. Grayson. I’m…I’m sorry about all the trouble.”

Mr. Grayson shook his head, “It’s no trouble at all, you’re Jason’s friend. And please, you can call me Dick here.”

“Dick.” Tim said.

Mr. Grayson, Dick, smiled, “The one and only!”

Jason rolled his eyes, edging around them and pulling out the seat in front of Damian, “You’re such a fucking nerd.”

“Love you too, Jaybird.” Dick smiled, rubbing the top Jason’s head as he walked by.

“Fuck off, Dickface!” Jason growled swatting at Dick.

Damian sighed, “Honestly, Todd. We have company, can you not be civil for one moment?”

“Really?” Jason deadpanned, “You just told Tim you were glad he wasn’t dead because it would have been a PR nightmare and I’m the one who’s not civil?”

Damian lifted his glass and took a sip of water, “I did so without using foul language.”

Tim stared at the scene in front of him. Dinner was going to be…interesting.

A door on the side of the room swung up, revealing an older man in a black tuxedo, “Dinner is almost ready to be served. Mister Drake, why don’t you take a seat next to Master Jason?”

Tim stared at the man for a moment, then nodded and pulled out the chair next to Jason. Dick smiled brightly from across the table.

“Ah! Pennyworth!” Damian called from the table, “I trust you’ve remembered my preferences for this meal?”

The man who must have been Alfred patiently nodded, “There are indeed a few extra slices of cornbread on your plate, Master Damian.”

“Wonderful.” Damian nodded back, “You are a worthy one, Pennyworth.”

“High praise, Master Damian.” Alfred turned to Tim, “Do you have any special requests or allergies, Mister Drake.”

Tim shook his head, “No sir, thank you for asking.”

“Please, call me Alfred.” Alfred said before disappearing back through the door.

Dick laughed, “That’s the thing with Alfred, he’s so set on being formal with us, but he freaks out when someone tries to be formal with him.”

“My parents barely talked to anyone who worked for us.” Tim admitted shamefully, “I liked them all though.”

Dick smiled softly, “Alfred’s more like a grandparent, he takes care of us all.”

As if summoned, Alfred appeared again through the swinging door. He was pushing a small silver cart that held four plates and four bowls. He made his way around the table clockwise, serving everyone a plate of cornbread and a steaming bowl of soup. True to Alfred’s word, Damian’s plate was piled with several extra pieces of cornbread which he tore into ravenously before anyone had even picked up a spoon.

The smell of the soup that wafted up to Tim’s nose was incredible, he turned to Alfred, “This smells amazing, thank you so much.”

“I appreciate the compliment, Mister Drake.” Alfred smiled kindly, “I have a large bowl of it ready to go home with you whenever you decide to leave.”

Tim stared at Alfred as he turned, disappearing through the door again. He hadn’t expected that.

“Drake!” Damian said, lifting a spoon, “How did you find you accommodations? Pennyworth tried to place you in a spare room, but Todd was dead set on getting you into his bed.”

Jason, Damian, and Tim all choked on their soup in unison. A loud thump came from under the table, and Damian quickly snatched a knife from the side of his plate and trust it in Jason’s direction.

“Damian!” Dick coughed, “No knives at the table!”

“He kicked me!” Damian glared.

“Jason!”

“I’ll do a lot more than kick you, little bastard!” Jason’s fist balled up as he slammed it on the table.

Damian jammed the knife into the wood of the table, “I am hardly the bastard, Todd!”

Tim was torn between being scared of bloodshed and laughing at the absolute _insanity_ in front of him. Damian just stabbed a table that had to be worth a small car, at least.”

Dick pinched the bridge of his nose, “Can you two honestly not act like normal children for two god damn minutes? We have company!”

Jason and Damian both turned to face Tim. Tim just gave them both an awkward smile.

Damian cleared his throat, gingerly pulling the knife out of the table and setting it back in its proper spot, “My apologizes, Drake.”

“He’s an ass.” Jason pointed at Damian, “My room was already made up, it was easier than having Alfred make up another one.”

Tim smiled as Jason as reassuringly as he could, “It’s fine, Jason. Really. The sheets were nice.”

Dick cracked a smile, “Jay won’t sleep in anything but sick sheets now, Alfred has him spoiled.”

The rest of the dinner continued without any bloodshed. Tim was happy to sit back and watch the brothers interact, which was a lot less strained than he thought it would be. Despite their insults and threats of violence, it was clear that they were all close and cared about each other. It was the kind of family that Tim had yearned for once upon a time.

Alfred came back into the room once everyone was done eating. Tim looked down at his empty bowl of soup and mourned its loss, it was possibly the best thing that Tim had ever eaten.

“Shall I make up a spare room for you, Mister Drake?” Alfred asked, “You are more than welcome to spend the night.”

Tim hadn’t even thought of that. As appealing as it sounded, Tim still felt off kilter from everything that apparently happened during the day and figured he’d be more comfortable in his own space. The Wayne family was warm and inviting, but it still felt like they were keeping an eye on him. At least he’d be able to fall apart at home without anyone judging him if he wanted to.

“No, thank you.” Tim smiled, “I should probably be getting back home soon.”

“I see.” Alfred nodded, “I’ll prepare a car for you.”

“You sure?” Dick asked, “Alfred was right, it’s no trouble if you want to stay. We’d obviously be able to give you a lift to school tomorrow too.”

“I appreciate it, honestly. Tim said, and then lied, “But I have a lot of stuff I need to work on at home anyway.”

Jason stood from the table, stretching, “I’ll take you. Don’t worry about the car, Alf.”

Alfred nodded, “I’ll pack up Mister Drake’s food and retrieve his belongings from your room.”

“Sounds good.” Jason reached out and fist bumped Alfred, they both opened their fingers in a fake explosion, “We’ll be in the garage.”

Jason led him out of the smaller dining room and back into another long hallway. They walked wordlessly down the hall, Tim eyeing the grand painted portraits as they went. Jason stopped in front of a set out double doors a moment later, wrenching open the handle and letting them both into a massive garage filled with dozens of classic cars, dozens of more modern ones, and a line of several motor cycles.

“Christ.” Tim whispered.

Jason flipped on a row of lights and illuminated the entire garage, “Bruce didn’t have a lot of vices, but the old man loved his cars.”

Tim followed Jason over to the row of motorcycles, he trailed his hands over the top of them, stopping in front of a sleek black bike that looked more like it was made for a race track than a city street. He reached over and grabbed a set of keys from a board, tossing them in the air and grinning at Tim.

Tim looked at Jason, and then at the bike, “You can’t be serious.”

Jason grinned, “I told you I had one.”

“You’re taking me back on a motorcycle?” Tim blinked at Jason in disbelief.

Jason walked over to a drawer and pulled out two helmets, tossing one at Tim, “I can still have Alf get one of these other boring rides ready. I thought you’d prefer the excitement.”  

Tim caught the helmet mid-air, “Because I haven’t had enough excitement today.”

Jason rolled his eyes, pulling a leather jacket from the inside of a metal storage closet and sliding his arms into one sleeve, “You’re probably safer riding with me on one of these than you are in a car, I have a lot more practice on bikes.”

“Fine.” Tim took a deep breath, “But if you kill me I’m coming back to haunt you for the rest of your life.”

“You say that like it’s a threat.” Jason placed the helmet on his head and rolled the bike out into the center of the garage.

Alfred appeared a moment later, Tim’s backpack and the rest of his uniform in hand, “I’ve taken the liberty of packing the leftovers in your bag. Worry not, they’re specially packed to avoid spilling. I’ve plenty of experience with Master Jason’s skills behind the wheel.”

Tim took the items from Alfred, “Thank you. I really appreciate this.”

“It is no problem.” Alfred smiled, “I look forward to seeing you around the Manor again, Mister Drake.”

Tim shrugged on his jacket as Alfred walked away. He made sure his bag was secured completely, trying the ends of both straps around his chest just to make sure. Jason was waiting for him, impatiently tapping his foot on the smooth stone floor of the garage. Tim sighed, pulled on his helmet, and walked over to meet Jason.

Jason swung his leg over the top of the bike, straddling it and turning back to Tim with the visor of his helmet pulled down.

“Hop on.” Jason’s muffled voice came from under the helmet.

Tim stared at Jason, frozen by a moment of deja-vu. He was ripped out it by Jason cranking the engine of the bike, it sputtered and cracked, echoing around the garage and startling Tim back into reality. He rushed over to the bike and swung his leg over it, sliding in comfortably close to Jason.

The large door to the garage opened automatically, Jason’s hands grabbed Tim’s arm, wrapping one around his waist, “Hold on. Tight.”

Tim nodded, circling his other arm around Jason and clasping his hands together. He was pressed close to Jason now, their bodies flush together. Tim’s hands moved in time with Jason’s breathing, and Tim’s heart hammered into the back of Jason’s leather jacket.

The bike lurched forward with barely a warning, and Tim hoped his yelp was inaudible over the motor of the bike. Judging by the way Jason’s body shook slightly, it probably wasn’t.

The scenery of the Manor’s properly rushed by in a flash. Jason deftly maneuvered the bike down the long, winding drive. They blew past rose bushes, manicured shrubbery, and tall trees. The iron gates of the property stated opening when they came into view, and Jason’s bike flew through them just as they made enough space for them to pass safely.

The area of Gotham that held Wayne Manor was sectioned off from the rest of the city by a large bridge. Jason zipped down the streets, weaving in and out of traffic expertly as they made their way across the bridge. The sun had almost completely set, so Gotham had that sort of dreamy quality to it when it wasn’t quite day, but not quite night either.

Gotham by Twilight.

The more populated parts of the city didn’t slow Jason down at all. He ignored all the blared horns of cars and taxi cabs, weaving in and out of traffic as soon as the opportunity presented itself. Jason’s driving could have been classified as reckless, but Tim never one felt unsafe. He had a feeling that Jason wouldn’t have let him ride on his bike if he didn’t know he could keep Tim safe.

Tim tightened his grip around Jason’s waist anyway.

Taking the bike had cut their travel time more than in half, so did the fact that they didn’t hit in red lights on the way there. It seemed like they’d just left the Manor when Jason pulled to a stop in front of Tim’s building.

The bike idled for a moment, and then Jason turned it off. Tim gently unwrapped his hands from around Jason and hopped off the bike, pulling the helmet over his head. Jason pulled his helmet off, and Tim smiled at how messy it looked.

Jason ran a hand through his hair trying to fix it but gave up a moment later, “You survive?”

Tim rolled his eyes, “I guess you’re a competent driver.”

Jason smirked, “Glad you enjoyed yourself, small fry.”

“Don’t push your luck.” Tim gave him a flat look.

Jason’s smirk only grew wider, “You need any help upstairs.”

Tim looked from the front door, then back to Jason. He was tempted to say yes, to try to extend whatever time he had left with Jason, but he was too tired, and he figured he should at least get a few hours of sleep before he moved onto the other plans he’d already made for the night.

“I think I can manage it.” Tim said, handing Jason back the helmet.

Jason shook his head, “Keep it.”

“You sure?” Tim looked down at the glossy black helmet in his hand.

“Yeah.” Jason nodded, “In case you ever want to go for another ride.”

Tim wasn't quite able to stop his smile, “OK.”

“Stay safe, Jiminy.” Jason put the helmet back on his head, “See you tomorrow.”

Jason cranked the bikes engine again, causing the machine to rumble back to life before flying off the curb and into the street.

Tim watched the bike go, only turning to walk inside when he couldn’t see Jason on the street anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter made me feel fuzzy, hope you like it!


	12. Tim

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy daylight savings

 

 

 

 

12

Tim

 

“Oracle to Red Hood.” Oracle’s voice chirped into Jason’s ear.

“Hood here.” Jason said, his legs dangling over the side of the building he was currently sitting on.

It had been a quiet night so far, for him at least. He’d stopped a few muggings, and honest to god helped an old woman cross the street. Contrary to widespread belief, Jason didn’t hate when things weren’t exploding. Sure, he might have his preferences when it came to action, but there was nothing terrible about a slow night. It didn’t always have to be super villains and drug busts.

Some of Jason’s fondest memories as Robin were on these quiet nights. The nights when there wasn’t a breakout at Arkham, the nights when the doomsday clock stayed firmly in place. The nights were very rare, but Jason quickly learned to revel in them. They were the nights he felt closest to Bruce, they were the nights that Batman would walk into a 24-hour diner, order two cheeseburgers to go, and sit on top of a building stuffing his face with Jason at his side while they kept an eye on their city below them.

“Hood?” Oracle sounded slightly concerned, “Are you OK?”

Jason cleared his throat, shaking his head to dislodge the memories, “Yeah, I zoned out for a second, sorry. What’s up, O?”

“I have something I think you might be interested in.” Oracle said over the sound of a tapping keyboard.

“Oh?” Jason leaned forward, resting his elbows on top of his thighs, “Continue.”

Oracle chuckled, “I’ve been monitoring the security feeds in and around NGPA for anything out of the ordinary, and about five minutes ago someone in a mask broke in through the front entrance.”

That got Jason’s attention, “What kind of mask?”

“Not the professional kind.” Oracle said, “A ski mask.”

“Interesting.” Jason hummed, “Must be a pretty big idiot to go through the front door.”

Jason was already pushing himself up from the ledge. He raised both arms above him and bent backwards, sighing when he heard a satisfying pop in his spine.

“I think it’s more of a miscalculation since all the cameras inside and outside the school went down about thirty seconds before he showed up.” Oracle said.

Jason quirked an eyebrow, “If the cameras are down then how did you see him?”

Jason could hear the smirk in Oracle’s voice, “The security camera from the ATM across the street.”

“You’re terrifying, I love it.” Jason complimented her as he pulled his grapple out of its holster.

“Stay sharp.” Oracle advised, “Whoever it is was smart enough to bring down all the cameras on school grounds, don’t underestimate him just because his mask came from a corner store.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jason agreed as he stepped off the ledge and fired his grapple into the building across the street, “I’m about five minutes out from the school.”

“Sounds good.” Oracle said, “Batman and Robin just got a hit on where Professor Pyg has been hiding, so they’re spoken for, but Batgirl is en route to a small-time jewelry store robbery a few blocks over, I can re-route her to you if you need help.”

“Keep Blondie where she’s at, I’ll be fine.” Jason smirked, running across the next rooftop and throwing himself across the gap between roofs, “I think I’ll be able to manage without Batdick and the Boy Demon too.”

“I’m just a call away.” Oracle reminded him, “Don’t get cocky.”

“I won’t.” Jason promised, “Red Hood out.”

“Oracle out.”

Jason was glad he’d been on the other side of the city, or else he’d probably have gotten roped in to take down Professor Pyg. The less time Jason spent around that freak the better, he’d always set Jason on edge. If he was being honest, he probably hadn’t completely dealt with the trauma of being kidnapped by him during his first month as Robin.

Pushing that memory away, Jason swung across the final gap until he landed on the roof of the café that was directly across from the school. He watched the exterior of the building for a second, waiting to see if anyone else joined their mysterious intruder, but everything seemed quiet.

He checked to make sure both guns were loaded before stepping off the ledge and dropping down onto the sidewalk opposite the school. The street was quiet at that time of night, so he dashed across the road and scaled the brick wall that surrounded the school. The front door was slightly ajar when Jason approached it, so he opened it as slowly as he could until it was wide enough for the bulk of himself and his body armor to slip through silently.

His boots made no noise as he crept down the hall. Moving silently was one of the first things that Bruce taught Jason during his training, he used to tell Jason that he could hear him coming from a mile away because of how heavy his footfalls were whenever he walked. He could still remember how proud Bruce looked the first time Jason managed to sneak up on him. He’d seared that particular smile into his brain because he’d been convinced at the time that Bruce would probably never look at him like that again.

The sound of a door opening drew Jason’s attention. He shook his head, wishing for a moment that his helmet was off so he could try to knock some sense into himself. He didn’t know why Bruce kept invading his thoughts tonight, he only knew that it was distracting.

A beam of light flashed underneath a door at the end of the hallway. It was the door that led to the Library. Jason continued his trek down the hall, curious to what he’d find inside the library. He’d love if it was someone connected to what happened to Tim, if it was someone who could fill in the pieces that were missing to the whole puzzle. He wasn’t expecting it though, Jason was never that lucky.

It was probably just some random intruder or a student who was convinced they could break into the school and change their grade from one of the computers on site.

Still, Jason couldn’t underestimate whoever was on the other side of the door. Babs had a running theory that whoever was connected to the attack at the school also had something to do with whatever happened to Tim. Jason agreed, multiple instances of memory loss all at the same place within weeks of each other was too big of a coincidence for him to overlook.

The library door opened without a sound, and Jason slipped in without managing to knock anything over. The library itself was still dark, but Jason could see the beam of a flashlight further back. He crept through the stacks, keeping himself as low as he could until he got close to see where the light was coming from.

The door to Babs’ office was wide open, and Jason could hear the tapping of a keyboard over the stillness of the room. He sighed to himself, shaking his head, of course it was some know it all tech genius who thought they could hack into the system that Barbara set up herself.

Jason silently made his way towards the office, leaning on the door frame and taking in the sight in front of him. The guy was still wearing his mask, but his fingers were flying across the keyboard. The only person Jason had ever seen type that quickly was Barbara herself.

Jason cleared his throat, “You know the office hours are posted on the door, right? I think you’re a little late.”

The guy at the computer froze, and Jason watched as an icy line of tension lanced through his shoulders. The clicking of the keyboard abruptly died, leaving the room silent aside from the sound of Jason breathing. The chair slowly began to turn, the hinges squeaking as it moved.

“Oh, it’s just you.” The guy in the chair said, the tension immediately melting away from his body.

“Just me?” Jason repeated, dumbstruck, “Do you know who I am?”

Jason subtly moved his jacket to the side so the handle of one of his pistols was exposed, but the guy barely reacted. It certainly wasn’t the kid of reaction Jason wanted the Red Hood to inspire. He’d feel much better about himself if the guy in front of him was cowering in fear, maybe even a little better if he peed his pants a bit.

“Obviously.” Jason watched blue eyes roll behind the mask.

The guy grabbed the bottom of the ski mask and pulled it off, messing up his hair in the process. It should have been obvious from the second Jason set his eyes on the guy, even more obvious when Jason heard him speak, but he was honestly surprised to see Tim sitting in front of him.

Tim smirked, “Cat got your tongue?”

Jason stared at him for a few more seconds before he settled on a response, “What the hell? Masks are _my_ thing.”

“Really?” Tim arched an eyebrow, “You might want to tell that to half the population of Gotham, they didn’t get the memo.”

Tim shook his head, tossing his hair back into something resembling order. He ran a gloved hand through it afterwards, his fingers combing through its length. Jason was so used to seeing Tim’s hair styled a specific way that he hadn’t realized it was almost shoulder length when he left it down without any product in it.

“You’re a sarcastic little shit at this hour, huh?” Jason glared at him from behind the helmet.

Tim shrugged, “Depends on who you talk to. Some people would argue that I’m a sarcastic little shit at all hours.”

Jason would be one of those people.

Jason pushed himself off the door frame and walked across the office, stopping at the edge of the desk, “What’re you even doing here? I didn’t take you for one of the kids who has to hack into the school to change his shitty grades.”

Jason didn’t think that was why Tim was there, but he wanted to let Tim lead the conversation.

“As if.” Tim wrinkled his nose, disgusted, “I’m looking for answers.”

Part of Jason felt wrong for talking to Tim as the Red Hood. He felt like they were getting closer as Tim and Jason, and it felt a little like he was betraying Tim’s trust by being two different people with them. Tim had been on the back of his motorcycle just hours ago, Jason could still feel Tim’s arms around him if he thought about it. And now Tim was sitting in a dark office across from the Red Hood talking about something he’d barely talked to Jason about.

“What kind of answers?” Jason asked, because regardless of everything else, it was something he needed to know.

“Something happened to me earlier.” Tim paused, took a breath, “I don’t remember anything, so I’m going to see what story the cameras tell.”

“You broke into your school to hack security cameras so you could watch yourself?” Jason cocked his head to the side.

Tim shrugged, “I tried to do it from my apartment, but this school has weirdly intense security, so I thought I might be able to get somewhere if I hacked it on site.”

“What makes you think you’ll be able to get into it here?” Jason asked, wondering if Oracle had an ear on the conversation as well.

Tim held up his arm, turning it to the side to show Jason a braided cable bracelet around his wrist. Tim lowered his arm and then pinched the bracelet with the thumb and index finger of his free hand, causing the clasp of the bracelet to pop open. Tim pulled the bracelet from his wrist and held it up again, this time Jason could see the head of a USB cable sticking out of it.

“I don’t need access to the entire mainframe, just the security feeds.” Tim explained, “The program on here should help me brute force my way into that section of the system.”

Jason let out a long whistle, “Damn, color me impressed.”

Tim bent down in the chair and popped the USB into one of the ports on the computer tower. The screen lit up and Tim got to work, his fingers flying across the keyboard again. Dialogue boxes popped up, Tim typed strings of code into them until they disappeared. He typed in password after password, scanned lines of text, and then Jason saw the same security feed that he’d watched earlier with Barbara popped up.

Jason _was_ impressed. Learning the basics of hacking and coding was part of his Robin training, and he’d worked on it even more to prepare himself for his job as the Red Hood, but there was no way Jason would have been able to do what Tim did. Even if it was supposedly easier than hacking into the entire system, he still went up against an Oracle created program and won.

Barbara was either going to be very impressed, or very pissed off. Honestly, it would probably be a mixture of both.

“How did you even know I was here?” Tim asked, his hand hovering over the mouse, “I made sure to cut all the security cameras before I broke in.”

“You forgot about the one in the ATM across the street.” Jason leaned over Tim’s shoulder and watched the white pointer of the mouse move across the screen, “I am curious to know how you cut all the cameras inside the school from outside.”

“I’ll tell you later.” Tim scrolled through the cameras until he found the feed that showed him leaving their first period class earlier in the morning.

Jason had already seen the footage, but watching Tim watch himself was a different experience all together. His brows were drawn together, and his face was pinched in a way that looked extremely uncomfortable. He would periodically pause the video feed, leaning in as if he was trying to find any signs of the video being tampered with. He’d play the images in slow motion, then sped them up, then watch them normally again.

Tim watched himself walk to the door of the teachers lounge and then turned back to Jason, “I don’t understand.”

“What?” Jason asked, knowing exactly where this was going.

“I go through this door,” Tim flicked his head towards the screen, “and then there’s nothing until I come out looking like…I don’t even know.”

Tim watched himself stagger down the hallway, then to the auditorium. There was no movement on the camera for a few minutes until it showed Jason bursting into the room and dropping down in front of Tim. Tim scrambled for the mouse, clicking out of the video screen before anything else could be seen. When Jason looked down at him, he thought he might have seen the smallest hint of red on his cheeks.

“Something happened to you in that room and you don’t remember it?” Jason asked.

“Apparently.” Tim’s answer was clipped, “According to the computer, there’s no record of there ever being a camera in the teachers’ lounge, even though there is dialogue in the hard data files that refer to one.”

Jason blinked at him from behind the mask, “That went right over my head.”

Tim rolled his eyes, but he tapped a few keys on the keyboard until a box of text popped up. Tim scrolled through the box and highlighted a string of text, “Look.”

Jason leaned over, his elbow brushing against Tim’s side, and read what was highlighted. It was just a simple line, TchrLngeCam1.

“Interesting.” Jason hummed, Barbara hadn’t told him anything about that.

Tim scoffed, “More like fucking annoying.”

Tim clicked out of the video screens, pulled his flash drive out of the computer, and got up from the desk. He clipped the drive back onto his wrist, then reached down for the ski mask on the desk and pulled it back over his head. Jason backed up to give him room, lingering in the doorway as he watched Tim try and place everything back exactly where it had been. Jason didn’t tell him that Babs and her perfect memory would be able to tell someone was in her office within five seconds of entering it tomorrow.

When Tim was done covering his tracks he walked to the door of the office, pausing in front of Jason. They stood there, silently staring at each other for a few moments until Tim huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Yes?” Jason asked, cocking his head to the side.

“You’re blocking the door.” Tim’s eyes narrowed at him.

“Am I?” Jason laughed.

The size difference in them was even more evident now. Jason was easily a head taller than Tim, not to mention to mention the dozens of pounds of muscle he undeniably had over him. Living in a remote cabin in the middle of the woods for close to two years hadn’t left Jason with much to do besides work out.

He never wanted to chop a piece of fire wood again.

Still, he’d seen Tim in action and knew there was a lot more to him than meets the eye. His grip was a lot stronger than Jason had expected when they were riding the bike earlier, and he’d seen Tim fight. In another world, Tim might have made a great candidate for Robin. Bruce’s eyes would be lighting up with interest if he were still around. Hell, if Bruce were still around, he wouldn’t have been surprised to find Tim in a costume with a different type of mask by this time next year.

“Hood, can you just…not?” Tim sighed, “I just want to go look at the teachers’ lounge.”

Jason turned his body so Tim could side past, and he swore he could feel the heat coming from Tim’s body even through the armor under his clothes. He let Tim get a few feet ahead of him before he closed the door to the office and followed after him. He didn’t want Tim getting into trouble or doing anything stupid, so he resigned himself to shadowing Tim for the rest of the night.

“Why the mask?” Jason asked as they left the library.

Tim looked over his shoulder, wordlessly conveying his answer.

“Touché.” Jason shrugged, following him down the hall.

“It was a last-minute decision.” Tim offered after a few seconds.

“You have a lot of ski masks laying around, huh?” Jason joked, “Should I add you to my watch list?”

Tim laughed, “You caught me. High school student by day, ski mask clad burglar by night.”

“You kid, but that’s a real possibility in this city.” Jason sighed, “I like you, Tim. Don’t make me have to arrest you.”

The second the words left his mouth, Jason wished he could have wrestled them to the ground, beat them into submission, and shoved them back inside himself.

“I’m not making any promises.” Tim said, either ignoring or not minding Jason’s admission.

Either way, Jason was grateful.

The only sounds in the building came from the sound of Tim’s shoes on the hardwood floor. It echoed through the hallway, either Tim didn’t know how to move quietly, or he simply didn’t care. Distantly, Jason thought about making his way upstairs to Dick’s classroom and setting up a boobytrap, but he didn’t want to leave Tim alone for however long that would take.

Tim stopped in his tracks, and Jason stepped to the side to avoid running into his back. He was looking at the door to the lounge with a critical eye, like he didn’t know what to make of the door.

“Everything OK?” Jason asked.

Tim chewed on his lip for a moment, “Something feels wrong.”

“How wrong?” Jason edged forward until he was standing directly next to Tim, “Like, _abandon all hope ye who enter here,_ wrong?”

Tim visibly hesitated before he spoke, “I can’t explain it.”

Jason reached for the doorknob, and Tim flinched. From the look in his eyes, it wasn’t a deliberate reaction. Panic started to swell in Jason’s chest as he thought about the things that could have happened in the room, his mind was coming up blank as he tried creating a plausible scenario in his head. The implausible scenarios came far more easily, especially since it was Gotham City they were talking about.

Jason slowly opened the door, holding it that was so Tim could step inside the room. He followed after him, closing the door as he went. The lounge was nothing special, just a small kitchen area, a sitting area, a few tables, and two copy machines. Jason had gotten a rundown of the search Damian and Stephanie conducted on the room, and neither of them had managed to find anything out of place.

Except for exactly what Tim was staring at right now.

“There’s a camera in here.” Tim said, his voice flat, “There’s a camera in here, but its existence has been almost entirely erased from the computer system. I don’t understand.”

“Join the club.” Jason muttered to himself.

Tim stood rooted in place, his eyes wide as he looked up at the small spherical camera in the corner of the room. Jason decided to use the time to conduct his own investigation. Maybe Blondie and the Brat missed something, maybe they were in a rush so they wouldn’t get caught. Jason didn’t have to worry about getting caught, so he could take his time with the room.

Nothing looked to have been disturbed. He inspected everything with as much scrutiny as he could, even going so far as to zoom the visor inside of his helmet in on the legs of all the furniture in the room to see if the dust around them had been disturbed. There were no obvious marks that showed anything had been moved, no disturbed trails of dust. The only thing that was obvious was that the cleaning crew had been neglecting the room.

He scanned the room for hidden cameras, rapped his knuckles against the wall looking for hollow spots that could conceal god knew what. Everything came up empty. The lounge was, for all that Jason could tell, a completely normal room.

Jason walked towards the other side of the room, setting his sights on the small kitchen area. There were a few dishes in the sink, coffee stained mugs and a plate that had something that looked like it came from Poison Ivy growing on it. Jason cringed, dousing the plate in soap, and running a bit of water of it.

He trailed his fingers along the counter top, tapping them as he went in an effort to think of _something_. The drawers were next, he opened them one by one and found two of them empty. The other two were occupied by basic kitchen utensils, except for the final drawer that Jason opened. The final drawer held a single item, a gleaming silver butcher knife that looked like it had fallen out of a horror movie.

Jason picked the knife up, whistling the [theme song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VLFx30Ijiq0) to Halloween as he inspected the it. It was heavier than he expected, certainly not a cheap knife that you could purchase at the grocery store. It was the only thing in the room that seemed out of place.

“What’s that?” Tim’s question drew his attention.

Jason turned, dangling the knife between the tips of his thumb and index finger. It swung back and forth a little bit, and Jason would have been worried about dropping it and cutting off a toe if he wasn’t already wearing steel-toed boots.

Tim’s eyes went wide at the sight of the knife. Even through the darkness, even though half of his face was obscured by his mask, Jason could see the look of fear on his face. Tim had obviously seen the knife before, just the sight of it was enough to scare him. He was reasonably sure the knife hadn’t been _used_ on Tim, at least not recently, but it was triggering something inside his subconscious.

Jason slowly sat the knife back on the counter, but after another look at Tim he decided it would probably be better if he put the knife back in the drawer. He dropped the knife in the lonely drawer and closed it, holding both hands up to Tim to show him they were empty.

“Tim?” Jason said hesitantly, “Do you remember something?”

Tim took a deep breath, staggering backwards a few steps, “It’s…hazy.”

“Hazy.” Jason repeated, “Can you describe to me what you mean by that? What does it feel like when you try your hardest to think of what happened?”

Maybe if Jason could get Tim to explain the feeling he could figure out if he was suffering the affects of one of their Rogues. The terrified look on Tim’s face had Jason leaning towards Scarecrow and his fear gas, but even that didn’t fully add up.

“It’s like there’s something in my head stopping me from remembering.” Tim took another deep breath, “It feels like…like a wall. No, that’s not right. It feels like someone took something from me, but they won’t let me remember that they’ve even taken it.”

Jason kept his distance, he tried to keep his voice calm as he spoke, but the vocal modulator installed in his helmet made everything sound slightly menacing, “Can you keep trying for me? You’re smart, Tim. You’re so smart, if anyone can figure out what’s going on, it’s you.”

Jason was walking a delicately thin line. On one side, this was their best chance at figuring out exactly what happened. On the other, Tim was visibly upset and kept getting worse the more he tried to think about it. Jason was torn between solving the case and making sure Tim didn’t hurt himself any further. They were warring instincts in his head, and one of them was clearly winning over the other

He walked forward, gently placing a hand on Tim’s shoulder, “Hey, look at me?”

Tim looked up, his eyes glassy with unshed tears, “I can’t…”

Jason wished he could take the helmet off, it would make things so much easier, “Don’t hurt yourself, OK? We can figure this out another way.”

Tim nodded, and Jason guided him to the couch nearby. He slowly reached out and pulled the ski mask from Tim’s face, hoping that getting more air onto his face would help clam him a bit. Tim smiled at him weakly as the mask slipped off his head, and Jason ran one of his gloved hands through Tim’s hair to settle it back into place.

“You sit, I’m going to get you some water.” Jason instructed, Tim nodded, and Jason turned his back.

Jason heard the sound of the couch squeaking under Tim’s weight as he walked to the sink. He grabbed a glass from the cabinet, turned on the sink to fill it with water, and then heard a sharp gasp from behind him. Jason dropped the glass, not caring that it shattered as it fell into the sink, and turned back to Tim.

“Tim?” Jason rushed over to him, dropping to his knee, “Tim? What is it?”

“I was sitting here.” Tim’s voice came out shaky, “And he was sitting there.”

Tim pointed to the empty space in front of him. There wasn’t anywhere for someone to sit, not unless they moved a chair from the other side of the room. Still, maybe he was remembering something.

“He…he was in my head.” Tim blinked rapidly, “He told me about…he wanted me to…”

Tim was starting to work himself up into a panic. He’d seen it happen a few times now, and it broke him every single time. Tim was so tightly controlled most of the time, coiled up to protect himself, that when his edges frayed even the smallest bit it would all come pouring out. Jason hoped he could try and talk him down before he spiraled completely.

“Hey, forget about that.” Jason said, “Focus on me, OK?”

Tim shook his head, “No. I have to remember. It’s so close. He wanted me to do something, and I have to remember what it was. He made people hurt other people. He…he was the one who got into their heads and made them do it.”

Who was _he_?

Just as Jason was about to pull Tim in for another attempt at a calming hug, he heard the sound of a door slamming out in the hallway. It didn’t seem to register to Tim, but Jason could hear footsteps echoing outside.

“Shit.” Jason hissed, pulling away from Tim, “I’ll be right back, OK?”

Tim didn’t answer, he just stared at the floor and kept repeating himself. Jason didn’t want to leave him like that, even to just walk across the room and look out the door, but he needed to check for his own piece of mind. With one last glance at Tim, Jason made his way across the lounge and opened the door just enough to see out of it. He couldn’t stick his head into the hallway, not if he wanted to get caught, but the shadow of the person who’d just entered the building was perfectly visible against the long wall across from the door.

It was a shadow that Jason was more than a little familiar with. A pointed cowl, a billowing cape, broad shoulders.

It was the shadow of the Bat.

Jason closed the door quietly, pressing his back to it as he took a deep breath. Tim was still sitting on the couch, and Jason could see his lips moving as he talked himself through whatever her was experiencing.

“Hood to Oracle.” Jason whispered, “O, I need you to answer.”

“Hood?” Oracle’s voice broke into his comm, “What’s wrong?”

“O, did you send Batman to my location?” Jason asked, making sure every word came out clearly.

“What?” Oracle sounded confused, “No, Batman and Robin are still across the city dealing with Professor Pyg. Hood, what’s going on.”

“Shit.” Jason hissed, “O, I think we’ve got a problem here.”

“ _Jason_ , you’re scaring me.” Oracle had to be worried to use his civilian name, “I haven’t been able to get back into the cameras at the school, I don’t have any eyes, so I need you to tell me what’s happening.”

“I’m here with Tim, and we have a visitor.” Jason said quietly, “Batman just entered the building.”

“Batman?” Oracle almost gasped, “But…”

Oracle’s sudden silence told Jason that she was thinking the same thing that he was.

“He’s here.” Jason balled his hand into a fist, “The Batman who was there when Bruce died is here.”

“I’m sending Batgirl to you now.” Oracle’s voice was all business now, “Batman and Robin were finishing up with Pyg last time I checked, I’m pulling them too. Batgirl’s ETA is five minutes, Batman and Robin’s unknown.”

Jason looked back at Tim, then at the door. As much as he wanted to barrel out into the hallway and lay into the fake Batman outside the door, he had Tim with him. Tim might be able to hold his own in a fight with brainwashed teenagers, but he was still a civilian. They didn’t know who this Batman was, how he operated, or any of the skills he possessed.

“I’m in the teachers’ lounge, I’ve got Tim with me.” Jason shook his head, “How the fuck does this guy even know we’re here?”

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this.” Oracle said, “This doesn’t feel right.”

Jason sighed, “Abandon hope all ye who enter here.”

“See if you can get Tim to a safe place until Batgirl arrives.” Oracle instructed, “I don’t want him getting hurt, and I don’t want you going at this guy alone.”

Tim didn’t appear to have even registered what was happening. He was so focused on trying to pull his own head apart that he hadn’t clued in on the fact that something wasn’t right. Jason groaned, pushed himself up, and walked back over to Tim.

“Tim, we’ve gotta move.” Jason said, trying to dull the harsh edge of his voice.

Tim shook his head, “No. I’m close, I can almost remember what he looks like. It’s all there, Hood. It’s hiding in plain sight.”

“We can figure that out later, Tim!” Jason snapped, “I need to move you somewhere safe.”

“I’m not letting him win!” Tim snapped back, his eyes narrowing in anger.

Tim was spiraling, but it was a different kind now. It wasn’t fear or sadness, it was anger. Tim was getting lost in his drive to figure out what happened to him, and he was determined to find someone to focus the anger on. 

If Jason thought he wouldn’t react badly, he’d just throw Tim over his shoulder and toss him out the window on the other side of the room. As it stood, he thought it might make things worse.

Jason used a finger to lightly tip Tim’s face up towards him, “We need to go, OK? I need you to work with me, Little Prince.”

Tim’s entire face changed at that. His brows shot up to his hairline, his eyes went wide, and Jason heard the smallest intake of air. Whatever the case, it was enough to pull Tim out of his anger spiral. Jason counted it as a win, he took Tim’s hand in his own and tried to pull him up from the couch.

The footsteps outside grew closer, but Tim still didn’t move.

Jason bit off a frustrated growl and looked down at Tim. He opened his mouth to say something, but Tim stopped him.

Tim looked up at him with almost impossibly wide eyes, staring into his helmet as if he was looking through it and straight into his eyes, he said.  

“Jason.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one day someone is gonna eat me alive for my cliffhangers


	13. Jason

 

 

 

13

Jason

 

Tim’s world felt like it was spinning off its axis.

His head was swimming with emotions, frustration, terror, anger, sadness. There were memories just outside his reach, and it felt like he was trying to beat down a steel door using only his fists to get to them. He was distantly aware of the fact that the Red Hood was in the room with him, had been with him almost the entire time Tim had been in the building, but he might as well had been a thousand miles away ever since Tim sat down on the couch.

It all felt too familiar, not quite unlike déjà vu. Tim had a suspicion that he’d been in the room before, that he’d sat on the couch, that he’d seen the knife that Hood dangled from his gloved hand. The steel door in his mind had a light shining out from under it, and Tim could see shadows cross beneath the crack under the door. He was getting closer now, he could feel it. The steel door started to give way as his fist pounded on it, the bloody prints his split and broken knuckles left behind on the front of the door were a minor inconvenience at best. He could hear voices on the other side of the door, and if he just kept pushing, he knew he’d be able to make it inside.

The Red Hood filled crouched down in front of him, filling Tim’s vision, “Tim, we’ve gotta move.”

There was no way that Tim could leave now. He could feel it now that he was in the room, there was a connection in here somewhere. This room was the place he was going to figure out what the fuck happened to him, and he wasn’t leaving.

Tim shook his head, “No. I’m close, I can almost remember what he looks like. It’s all there, Hood. It’s hiding in plain sight.”

He could see the room slowly start to piece itself back together in his mind. The man in the suit, he’d been sitting in a chair that wasn’t there anymore. He’d grabbed the same knife that Hood did, and Tim remembered droplets of blood hitting the floor. The man had been terrifying, and Tim could see the vague outline of his face with a winged mask on it.

“We can figure that out later, Tim!” Hood snapped, “I need to move you somewhere safe.”

Hood was distracting him, and he didn’t know why. Tim was so close, so fucking close, and he didn’t want to lose whatever thread he was tugging on.

“I’m not letting him win!” Tim snapped back, his eyes narrowing at Hood in anger.

The reflection of the phantom room was battling with the very real Hood in front of him. They were both shimmering in and out of focus, like a distant mirage in the desert. Hood was getting visibly more upset, but it looked like he was trying to restrain himself from doing something stupid. He kept talking in a whisper, looking over his shoulder at the door to the lounge.

Tim’s breath caught when he felt a glove finger lightly slide under his chin. The touch was soft, feather light and barely there, but it slowly lifted Tim’s face until it was looking directly into the Red Hood’s helmet. Tim could see his reflection in the helmet, and even though it was tinged a shiny red color, he could tell it looked absolutely wrecked. His hair was disheveled from where he’d been running his hands through it, pulling at it to try and dislodge memories. His lips were red, marked from the nervous habit of chewing on his lips.

Hood’s voice was soft, impressively so even with the vocal modulator below his helmet, “We need to go, OK? I need you to work with me, Little Prince.”

Tim reeled back, feeling like he’d been slapped. The steel door in his mind flew open, dousing him in blinding light. He stumbled through it, but what he found wasn’t what he expected. The memories flew at him rapidly, like a slide show.

_A high-pitched whistle came from the Red Hood, “Got you a nice Ivory Tower, Little Prince.”_

_“The better question is: why are you here?” The Red Hood cocked his head to the side, the whites of the eyes on his hood focusing in on him, “How did my Little Prince find himself lost in the darkness?”_

_Tim felt himself flush, “I’m not your anything.”_

_“We need to go, OK? I need you to work with me, Little Prince.”_

The image of the Red Hood in his mind flickered away, and it was slowly replaced by Jason Todd. He was in the dark, pressing himself against the wall of the auditorium. He’d escaped from the man who’d invaded his mind, and he was trying to get somewhere safe. He was alone, terrified, barely there.

And then the door opened, the light from the other side illuminating a silhouette. The shape ran in, stopping directly in front of Tim. It was Jason, and Jason looked worried. There were mumbled words that Tim didn’t understand, but one thing stood out among everything else.  Jason’s soft presence stirred something inside of him, he raised his head just a fraction so he could make eye contact with Jason.

_“There you are.” Jason smiled softly, “Glad to see you’re still with me, Little Prince.”_

More flashes of memories came next, some of Jason fighting with him in the hallway were superimposed over images of the Red Hood saving Tim in the alley. Jason and the Red Hood worked in tandem, each one move mirroring the other.

 Jason grabbed his attacker by the front of the face, his large palm splaying across their face before he shoved it down to the ground.

The Red Hood grabbed his attacker by the front of the face, his gloved palm playing across the front of their face as he shoved it down to the ground.

They each moved with a fluidity that Tim had never seen before. It was equal parts brutality and fine-tuned training. There was undeniable power behind each blow, simmering anger just below it.

Jason and the Red Hood flickered away, and another figure stepped out of the darkness. It was the man from the room, the one who’d taken his memories from him. His dark suit fit him perfectly, and dark eyes stared back at Tim from behind an exaggerated mask.

Doctor Hurt.

_“The two of you worked together flawlessly on your first day of school despite never having met before.” Doctor Hurt said, “He’s given you a ride in his car, he’s been inside your home, and you looked positively adorable asleep on his shoulder in the school auditorium. Is this maybe a case of you not realizing you’re getting close to someone, Timothy? You’ve never formed a true, meaningful relationship before in your life, how would you actually know when you are?”_

_Tim took a deep breath, “But you’re wrong about one thing: Jason has never been inside my home.”_

_Doctor Hurt’s eyes widened behind his mask, though he quickly tried to cover the reaction. Tim wasn’t sure what he’d said that surprised him, but he’d take the small victory where he could._

_“You’re not in on the family secret then, are you?” Doctor Hurt asked, “That’s surprising, but it doesn’t change much.”_

A jolt pulled him out of his memories, he looked up to find Hood trying to pull him up from the couch. Tim looked at his reflection in Hood’s helmet again, his mouth was wide open, and his brows were raised in equal parts of surprise and shock.

Hood let out a frustrated growl as he tried to get Tim to move, but Tim couldn’t do anything. Hood stopped trying to move him, and they just stared at each other. Tim looked directly into the white eyes of Hood’s helmet, feeling as he could see through it to the person on the other side.

He could, because Hood wasn’t just Hood, the Red Hood was, “Jason.”

Tim didn’t word it as a question, because he’d never been surer of anything in his life. Part of him felt like a fool for not realizing sooner, it wasn’t as if Jason had been exactly subtle about it. Either version of Jason seemed to show up whenever Tim was in trouble. If it wasn’t Jason coming to Tim’s rescue, then it was the Red Hood. The Red Hood who’d shown up on his balcony in the raining, blood trickling down his leg. Jason who’d taken him to his home and had dinner with Tim and his family. The Red Hood who’d followed Tim to make sure he got home safe after that night in the alley. Jason who Tim had wrapped his arms around on the back of a motorcycle.

There was no question about it, Jason Todd was the Red Hood, and the Red Hood was Jason Todd.

“Tim…” Hood, no, Jason’s, voice was wary.

“Jason.” Tim said, trying to keep his own voice as strong as possible.

Jason hissed behind the mask, “Would you stop saying that so loud?”

Tim huffed out a laugh, he supposed that was as good of a confirmation as anything.

A bit of anger bubbled up and over as Tim spoke, “We have a lot to talk about.”

Jason sighed, looking over his shoulder at the door again, “Later. We need to get out of here _now_.”

Jason’s shoulders were lined with tension, and the free hand that wasn’t being used to pull Tim up from the couch was resting on the top of one of Jason’s holsters. He’d obviously missed something while he was trapped in his head trying to get answers.

A shadow appeared underneath the door, and Jason tensed, pulled Tim’s body down off the couch and rolling them to the side. Tim gasped at the sudden movement, but didn’t try to fight Jason. A few seconds later, Tim heard wood splintering. He looked up just in time to see something fly through the air, fast and sharp, and embed itself in the couch exactly where Tim had been sitting just moments before.

“Stay down!” Jason commanded, crawling back to the couch.

Jason moved quickly, keeping his body down as he reached for whatever was embedded in the couch. He pulled it out, and another one broke through the door and landed where Jason’s hand had been. Cursing, Jason snatched it out of the couch and then rolled himself back over to Tim. In Jason’s hand were two serrated, sharp, pieces of metal that were cut with fine precision to look like a bat.

“Fuck.” Jason whispered, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Jason grabbed Tim’s hand and pressed both of the metal bats into Tim’s palm. They were larger than he’d expected them to be, about the length of Tim’s entire hand. Jason delicately closed Tim’s gloved hand around them.

“Are these what I think they are?” Tim asked.

Jason shook his head, “No. Those aren’t real batarangs. They don’t belong to the real Batman.”

“The _real_ Batman.” Tim asked.

The shadow under the door shifted, its position going from straight on to something more angled. Tim stared at it for a second, and he could see the flicker of movement where the person behind the door took a small step back. Tim realized what was happening, he threw himself at Jason, tackling him down to the ground just as another batarang pierced through the door, embedding itself into the wall instead of Jason’s spine.

Tim pressed his body down onto Jason, and the shadow under the door shifted again. It didn’t so much as shift as much as it grew lighter, like it was moving further away. It didn’t go backwards though, or to either side, the shadow stayed in the same place.

Whoever was on the other side of the door jumped.

Tim rolled himself and Jason to the side, pushing Jason away from him and into the coffee table. The batarang sliced through the upper part of the door and hit just where Tim’s head had been.

“Why isn’t he just breaking the door down?” Tim asked.

“He’s playing with us.” Jason growled, “How the fuck does he know where to aim?”

The shadow under the door sifted again, angling itself towards Jason, “Jason!”

Jason used his feet to push himself under the coffee table, hitting it with his elbow and flipping it onto the side to act as a shield. The batarang slammed into it, only managing to pierce through the table halfway.

“How is this bastard seeing us?” Jason growled again.

“Stay there, you should be safe.” Tim said to Jason.

“Me?” Jason cried, “What about you?”

“I’m testing a theory.” Tim whispered low enough for only Jason to hear.

“What theory?” Jason dropped his voice, “Let me test the theory, I’m the one with body armor.”

Tim tuned him out. He pressed himself against the closest wall he could, it didn’t seem like there was any way a batarang could reach him unless it curved through the air, which simple physics wouldn’t allow since the batarang already had to sacrifice momentum to break through the solid door of the teachers’ lounge.

Tim purposely stumbled, pushing himself off the wall and landing the ground closer to the center of the room. He lingered there for a moment, watched the shadow shift, and then felt himself get hauled back by the collar of his shirt. A batarang landed in the open space between his legs as Jason pulled him behind the coffee table shield.

“What the _fuck_ were you thinking?” Jason snapped, “I mean, I know you’re a reckless idiot, but I didn’t think you were that big of a dumb ass. What the hell is your problem?”

Tim gave Jason an icy glare, “First, I’m not going to sit here and be lectured by the guy who’s been lying to me for weeks now.”

Jason flinched, and the vocal modulator crackled with the beginning of a word, but Tim silenced Jason by slapping his hand over the blank space where Jason’s mouth would be if he wasn’t wearing the helmet. It wouldn’t have actually prevented Jason from talking, but the surprise of the motion was enough to silence him.

“Second, I was confirming my theory.” Tim said, slyly pointing to the camera in the corner of the room, “Whoever is on the other side of that door is watching us through that security camera, it’s how they know where to throw the batarangs.”

It was the only thing that made sense. The shadow of the person under the door always seemed to move to an angle that would let him hit Tim and Jason, and the shadow only moved when Tim and Jason did.

“You said that camera wasn’t working!” Jason accused him.

Tim rolled his eyes, “I said the camera wasn’t registering in the system or providing a feed _we_ could view, I never said the camera didn’t work.”

“Well fuck me running.” Jason said, sounding impressed.

Tim watched as Jason reached down and drew one of his guns from its holster. He popped up from behind the coffee table shield, aimed at the camera in the corner of the room, and fired a round into it. The camera sparked as it was destroyed, and then it dropped down onto the ground, breaking in half.

Tim looked from Jason to the ruined camera on the floor, “Well, that’s one way to do it.”

The shadow under the door retreated, but Tim didn’t think they would be that lucky. A few seconds later his fears were confirmed as a loud banging came from the other side of the door, the sound of someone throwing their body against it repeatedly. They’d gone from toying with them to seriously trying to get into the room.

Jason let out a low huff, then pushing himself up from the floor. Tim let out a surprised gasp as Jason’s large hand wrapped around his wrist, pulling him up from the ground too. Jason led him over to the window, used his elbow to break it, then used the barrel of his gun to clear out the shards of broken glass.

“Go.” Jason said.

“What?” Tim gasped, “No! I’m not going to just run away.”

“Then you’re an idiot!” Jason shouted, grabbing Tim by the shoulders, and turning his body to the broken window, “Tim, please. I can’t focus on this guy and worry if you’re safe or not too.”

Jason’s voice as softer at that last part, Tim opened his mouth, “Ja…”

Jason stopped him, “Don’t. Just take these.”

He picked up two more batarangs from the floor and gave them to Tim, bringing his total up to four.

Tim looked down at the batarangs in his hand, “What am I supposed to do with these?”

“Throw them at someone if they try to kill you.” Jason said, turning back to the door just as it splintered in half.

Tim could see the person though the broken crack in the door now. He certainly looked like Batman, he was tall and imposing enough. Something was different though, this Batman wore a metal mask on the lower part of his cowl, covering his entire mouth.

“Go before I push you out of the goddamn window myself!” Jason barked.

Tim was conflicted. Part of him knew he’d only hinder Jason by being there, but the other part of him wanted to help.

Jason yelled out in pain as a batarang embedded itself in the back of his shoulder. The movement was so fast that Tim didn’t even see it himself. Jason reached back and pulled it out of his shoulder, throwing it onto the ground. Tim stared at the bloody tip on one wing of the batarang and made his decision.

“Come with me.” Tim said, “We can both make a run for it.”

“Can’t.” Jason grunted, “I’ve got a score to settle with this guy.”

“Dammit.” Tim hissed, “Fine. Don’t die.”

Tim crawled onto the ledge of the window, then jumped down into the grass lawn that surrounded the school. The drop was only a few feet, but he still stumbled as he landed. Jason was gone from the window, but Tim could hear the sound of a fight.

He wasn’t going to give up that easily.

Another gunshot went off as Tim made his way to the front of the school. He was moving a litter slower than he normally would, but he was trying to figure out if the Batman who attacked him was alone, or if he had help. Tim slowly looked around the corner of the building, just in time to catch the sight of the end of another cape disappearing through the front door of the school.

“Shit.” Tim sighed, pulling the four batarangs out of his pocket and running up to the front of the school.

Hopefully the element of surprise was enough to keep him safe. He opened the front door, closing it behind him as quietly as he could. There was no one in the hallway, but he could hear fighting happening elsewhere. He ran back to the lounge, but it was abandoned. There were a few more pieces of broken furniture, and the glass cases outside of the room were shattered either by the impact of bodies or Jason’s rubber bullets.

Another gunshot rang out, and Tim flinched at the surprise of the sound. Another one followed, so Tim started to move towards the sound. It sounded like it was coming from the auditorium, his suspicions were confirmed when he saw the door cracked open.

Jason, not-Batman, and a girl with blonde hair and a purple and yellow Bat costume were all engaged in a fight. Hood threw himself at not-Batman, diving towards the stage to take him down. Not-Batman twisted away from him, spinning himself into a roundhouse kick that caught Jason by surprise. Not-Batman’s boot connected with the side of Jason’s helmet, and he came crashing down. His back collided with the edge of the stage, and then Jason’s body went limp as it rolled off the stage and onto the ground.

The girl in purple ran towards Jason, and just as Tim was about to throw a batarang at her, she helped Jason up and moved him out of the way of another attack. Jason’s fingers flexed, he shook his head, and then Jason and the girl nodded at each other. Jason was missing one gun, but he pulled the other out of its holster and aimed it at not-Batman while the girl moved away from him.

Jason fired on not-Batman, drawing his attention while the girl circled around and pulled out a small metal baton. She must have pressed something, because the baton extended out into a full-sized metal bo staff. Jason kept firing, pinning not-Batman down, and the girl spun the staff in her hands before swinging it at not-Batman. 

The staff hit not-Batman in the side, right below where his ribs were, and not-Batman flew off the stage and into the first row of seating in the auditorium. The impact was so great that it knocked one of the seats loose, Tim watched as it fell to the side as not-Batman laid motionless on the ground.

“Damn,” Jason sounded impressed, “nice hit, Batgirl.”

“Thanks for the distraction, Hood.” Batgirl grinned at him.

Not-Batman pushed himself up, grabbing a broken part of one of the seats and throwing it in Batgirl’s direction. She let out a cry of surprise, but ducked in time to miss the sharp piece of metal that was flying towards her head. Jason ran towards not-Batman while he was distracted by Batgirl. Jason jumped off the ground, raised his fist, and used the momentum of his fall to strengthen the blow. The punch hit not-Batman on the side of the head, he staggered backwards in the row of seating as the metal mask fell off his face.

“The fuck?” Jason reeled back in surprise.

Not-Batman’s back was to Tim, so he couldn’t see what surprised Jason. Not-Batman took advantage of the moment though, darting forward to his Jason with a sharp uppercut. The blow his Jason right under the chin of his back, and it was so strong that it launched Jason up into the air. Jason flew backwards, his body landing in the sloped aisle and rolling down it.

“Oracle, we need back up.” Batgirl had a hand pressed to her ear, talking to someone who wasn’t there.

 _Oracle_.

The name rang a bell, it must have been the same person that Jason was talking to on the earpiece the morning the school was attacked. Oracle knew the Red Hood, and she also knew Batgirl. Jason made mentions of Damian and Dick to Oracle that morning the school was attacked, and Oracle even spoke to Damian directly.

Well, shit.

All the pieces of the puzzle were starting to fall together.

Batgirl raised her staff and went in for another attack. Not-Batman ripped the arm off another chair, using the small metal piece to block the blow of her staff. He swiped the chair arm at her, and she moved her staff to block it accordingly. The move opened her up for an attack though, and not-Batman grabbed the top of the staff, yanking her forward so he could drive a knee into Batgirl’s stomach. Batgirl let out a pained gasp, and not-Batman headbutted her with his forehead. Batgirl’s eyes closed as her body went limp, and not-Batman tossed her to the side.

Not-Batman walked over to Jason now. Jason was reaching for his gun, but not-Batman kicked it to the side before he could grab it. Not-Batman reached down, grabbing Jason by the lapel of his jacket, and lifting him into the air. He pushed Jason backwards until his body collided with the wall, and then wrapped both hands around Jason’s neck. Jason started to struggle, but he was already injured and probably concussed. Not-Batman lifted Jason us he was choking him, and Jason’s feet dangled uselessly as he tried to kick at him.

Tim saw his opening, he slipped inside the auditorium and tested the weight of the batarang in his hand. He’d never thrown anything like this before, but if he wanted to save Jason, he needed to make sure he did it right. It was lighter than it looked, so Tim moved as quietly and as quickly as he could to get closer to not-Batman.

Jason was still struggling, but Tim could see his movements begin to slow. When he was about 40 feet away from not-Batman, he stopped, held the batarang in between his thumb and forefinger, and pulled his arm back like he was about to throw a frisbee. He released the batarang when his arm was almost completely straight, and then watched it fly quickly through the air and embed itself in not-Batman’s back.

Tim didn’t think, he just repeated the process again. The second batarang flew faster than the first, and hit not-Batman in the shoulder of the arm that was putting the most pressure on Jason’s throat. It was enough to get his attention, Jason’s body dropped to the ground and not-Batman turned to face Tim.

Tim reeled back in horror, much the same way Jason did a few minutes earlier. With not-Batman’s metal mouthguard gone, Tim could see what was hidden behind it. The exposed skin of not-Batman’s face was two different shades, and black stitches connected at the chin as if the two shades of skin came from two different people and were sewn together. The most shocking part though, was that not-Batman had no mouth.

In the space where his mouth should have been, not-Batman just had an orderly row of surgical staples.

Tim threw the third batarang as not-Batman started moving towards him, but his aim was off, and it missed the mark. He threw his fourth, and final, and it hit not-Batman in the left side of his chest. The batarang barely phased him, not-Batman just pulled it out of his chest, threw it onto the ground, and kept walking slowly towards Tim.

Tim backed up, stumbling over a broken piece of a chair. He scrambled for something to use as a weapon, but he knew he was totally out of his league with this. Sure, he could fight off someone close to his own size, or someone dumber than him, but not-Batman had just taken down Batgirl and Jason, and Jason was one of the most impressive fighters Tim had ever seen.

Not-Batman loomed over him, and Tim made on final desperate grab for a twisted piece of metal when gunshots rang out in the auditorium.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

FiveSixSevenEight.

Click.

Click.

Click.

Not-Batman’s body listed to the side, and then fell over completely. Tim looked up to see Jason standing behind not-Batman, an empty gun in his hands. Not-Batman’s hand was still twitching, so the rapid impact of rubber bullets hadn’t killed him, but it bought them enough time to escape.

“You idiot!” Jason shouted as he ran over to Tim, “You do have a death wish, don’t you?”

“I just saved you!” Tim glared at him as he took Jason’s offered hand, “The only thing I’m wishing for right now is for your ungrateful ass to say thank you.”

“I’ll thank you if we get out of here.” Jason stepped away from him and ran over to Batgirl, “She’s still breathing. We need to go, backup is on the way.”

“The real Batman?” Tim asked.

 “Something like that.” Jason huffed out a sarcastic laugh, “Go. I’ll be right behind you.”

Tim was going to offer to help carry Batgirl, but Jason already had her hoisted over his shoulder. He figured he’d listen to Jason this time, so he ran forward so he could hold the front door open for Jason. Not-Batman was still down for the count, so he didn’t feel too bad about leaving Jason a few feet behind.

Tim made his way to the front door, but someone on the other side opened it before he could. Tim stumbled backwards, equal parts shocked and terrified, as the silhouette of another Batman stood in the doorway. He tripped on his left foot, tumbling to the ground, and looked up at a Batman with skin that was all the same color, and an actual mouth.

Before Batman could say anything, Robin stepped in front of him. Robin’s sword was drawn, and he held it close to his body. When he spoke, Robin, who Tim now believed to be Damian, was dry and impersonal.

“Civilian, where are Red Hood and Batgirl?”

Tim couldn’t do anything except stare at the sharp edge of Robin’s sword.

“Robin.” Batman’s surprisingly gentle voice came out.

Robin looked up at Batman, and then down at his sword. Robin let out an annoyed huff, but reached behind his back and sheathed his sword.

“We’re here.” Jason grunted, Batgirl still slung over his shoulder.

Batman and Robin left Tim on the ground, rushing forward towards Jason. Tim could still overhear their conversation.

“Take her back to the cave, she needs medial attention.” Batman said, “Oracle will meet you there.”

“I’m coming back out.” Jason said.

“No.” Batman’s tone was firm, “You’re injured, you’re no help to anyone in the state you’re in.”

“The fuck I am!” Jason growled, “That fucking thing in there did this, I’m not letting it get away.”

“We will take care of whatever it is.” Batman said, “That is final.”

“Fuck you!” Jason spat, “You’re not the boss of me!”

Batman stared at Jason, “I am when I’m wearing this suit. Take Batgirl back to the cave so both of you can be looked at.”

“You’re such a fucking asshole.” Jason said after a few moments of silence.

“As you’ve told me repeatedly for almost my entire life.” Batman sighed before he shook his head, “Now go, and make sure the civilian gets out of here safely.”

At that, all three vigilantes turned to look at Tim. Tim quickly looked away, pretending he was focusing on the very interesting pattern in the grain of the hardwood floor.

“Fine.” Jason gritted out.

Tim finally stood up from the ground, and he walked out the front door of the building. He stopped in his tracks when he saw the Batmobile parked on the front lawn of the school, the manicured lawn torn to pieces by its tired, and the iron gate twisted and bent where the Batmobile had crashed through them to make it into the schools property.

The absurdity of the image startled a laugh out of Tim. He leaned against the front of the building and laughed until he could feel tears forming in his eyes. He suspected that the laughter was covering up something else, though Tim was too mentally and physically exhausted to think about it.

“I’m glad at least one of us finds this funny.” Jason said, walking to the Batmobile and depositing Batgirl into the passenger’s seat of it, “Go home, Tim. Please.”

Jason walked around to the other side of the Batmobile and the hatch at the top slid back to allow him entry.

“Should you be taking that?” Tim asked.

“Probably not, but I don't give a fuck.” Jason shrugged, “Please go home, Tim. I need to know you're safe,”

Jason’s voice sounded so raw, even from behind the helmet, that he couldn’t deny the request. He nodded a silent confirmation, and the tension in Jason’s shoulders eased out before he slid into the Batmobile. The engine sprung to life, and the Batmobile tore out of the front lawn of the school before it rocketed down the street and out of Tim’s view.

Tim shook his head, walking down the front steps of the school and out into the street. He jaywalked, because there wasn’t a single damn car around at this hour of the night, and spent the entirety of his short walk home laughing about the fact that Jason fucking Todd was the Red Hood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i died at all the comments last chapter, you guys keep me young! hope you enjoy this one, looking forward to your comments!


	14. Falling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> before I start, I got art!! Everyone go show love to [khachalala on tumblr for drawing this amazing picture](https://khachalala.tumblr.com/post/179895235262/night-time-my-time-lscar123-multifandom) of one of my favorite scenes for chapter 2!!! i'm still in awe over it tbh!

 

14

Falling

 

It was raining again, because of course.

It didn’t stop Jason though, he raced his bike down the track that led out of the Cave and gained a bit of air when the bike flew over the small ramp just outside the caves exit. Technically it was there to help one of the various vehicles with flight capabilities take off, but Jason had always loved launching his bike off it.

He followed the abandoned road outside the cave until it weaved back in to the normal civilian ones, guiding the bike towards the bridge in the distance. What he was about to do was probably a bad idea, and if it came down to it, Jason could claim brain damage from his fight with the freaky not-Batman, but he kept his bike angled towards the direction of the city.

The rain pounded down on his shoulders as he drove, splattering against his helmet before it was blown away by the air that rushed past. His leather jacket billowed behind him, he was vaguely aware that he was breaking about four different laws just from the speed he was going, but the groups of cop cars he flew by did nothing to react, that was the beauty of driving around on a motorcycle dressed as a vigilante.

His gloves were pulled tight against his skin as he twisted the accelerator, his knuckles no doubt white underneath them. It had been about an hour since the mess at the school, since he’d all but begged Tim to go back home so he wouldn’t have to worry about him.

An hour since Tim  _realized who he was_.

It played on a loop in Jason’s head, Tim’s wide eyes, his astonished whisper.

_“Jason.”_

He’d run it through his head multiple times in the last hour, replaying every moment they’d been together to figure out how in the hell Tim actually figured it out. He knew Tim was smart, a damn near genius as long as it didn’t concern self-preservation, but Jason still couldn’t figure it out.

Was it his fighting style? Was Tim observant enough to realize that Jason and the Red Hood fight in the same way?

Was it something he said? Was Jason that big of an idiot that he’d slipped up and gave something away himself?

Whatever the case, Tim knew. It wasn’t a huge stretch to connect the identities of everyone else just by knowing that Jason was the Red Hood, and it was only a matter of time until Tim figured everything out. He didn’t actually know what would happen, Jason never had to deal with someone finding out his identity in all the years he spent wearing a mask. Though that was mostly because Jason didn’t have friends who didn’t wear masks themselves.

 All Jason knew was that if Bruce was still around, he’d be having the biggest shit fit over it.

He also might have been a little impressed by Tim, secretly of course.

Jason ignored the horns blaring at him as he got off the bridge, he took a sharp right turn and cut through an alley, shaving a few blocks off his travel time. He slowed down as he got near the middle of the alley, then quickly killed the engine, and hopped off the bike. He engaged the active camouflage, armed the bike to the teeth with its security settings, and pulled his grapple gun from his hip.

He was ripped from the ground as the grapple caught the top of the building next to him, he rocketed over the edge and made a running jump for the next building. He could see Tim’s apartment building in the distance, its silver windows standing out against the blackness of the night. There were only a few hours left until sunrise, Jason didn’t know what he expected to find at Tim’s apartment when he got there, but he kept going anyway.

His muscles were burning by the time he was directly across from Tim’s building, a combination of the fight and the time spent throwing himself across roofs of assorted sizes and shapes. He ignored the strain he felt in his thighs when he kicked off the side of the building and fired his grapple into one of the balconies of Tim’s building. He jumped through them all, pulling his body over ledges and railings until he was standing on Tim’s balcony.

The inside of the apartment was dark, except for the flickering light of the TV in the living room. Jason could see the vague outline of someone sitting on the couch, he watched a few seconds as the images on the screen paused, rewound, and then played again. Tim was watching recorded footage of Batman, Robin, and himself fighting.

“Fuck.” Jason sighed, staring at himself in the reflection of the window.

Water was still dripping off the shoulders of his jacket, and the unblinking eyes of his helmet looked directly back at him. He could still turn back, he realized. Jason could just turn around, dive off the balcony, and forget that all this ever happened. He could leave again, go back to his isolated cabin in the woods, or go try to make a name for himself in another city that didn’t remind him of every fucking thing he’d lost in his life every time he rounded a corner.

Jason could leave, and he could make it so that Tim would never find him. If he left, maybe Tim would forget about the rest of the family. If Jason wasn’t around him, maybe Tim would lose interest in the rest of the bats.

Jason could leave.

Jason  _could_  leave, but he didn’t want to.

Tim’s body shifted on the sofa, he leaned over to the side and cracked his neck before he stretched his arms out over his head. He was awake.

Jason slowly raised his hand to the glass door in front of him, it hovered there for a moment until he worked up the courage, and then he knocked. It was just a light tap, a dull thud of gloved knuckles on the glass door, but it was enough to startle Tim. Jason felt a pang of guilt inside as Tim jumped in his seat, almost falling off the couch in his scramble to turn around and look at the door. The lamp next to Tim flipped on, it illuminated the side of his face, casting him in a weirdly angelic light.

Tim didn’t look injured, he just looked tired. His eyes roved around the apartment before they finally landed on Jason, and Jason saw the way Tim’s mouth parted when he realized who he was looking at. His expression instantly changed, his face growing more guarded, he grabbed for his remote and held it over his shoulder, clicking a button to pause the footage on the screen.

They stared at each other for several long seconds, and just when Jason was starting to feel like Tim was going to leave him outside, he stood up from the couch and walked over to the window. Tim was dressed in a loose-fitting white shirt, and a pair of cropped grey sweatpants, his hair was disheveled like he’d been running his hands through it, several long strands sticking out to the side.

Tim turned on a few more lights as he walked towards the door, it illuminated the apartment and made the sterile industrial feel of it stand out even more. It was all metallic greys and blues, it matched Tim perfectly. Tim stopped in front of the sliding glass door, and Jason made a note of the fact that Tim didn’t immediately reach to unlock it like he had last time they were in this position.

“Can I help you?” Tim asked, his voice muffled through the door.

Jason took a deep breath, he opened his mouth to speak, but he stopped himself before the words came out. He pulled his gloves off, dropping them into a wet pile on the floor of the balcony, and then ran his hand along the underside of his helmet. He tapped out the code to unlocked it, disarming all defenses, and pressed the button to disengage. The helmet hissed as it unsealed, it split along the side, and Jason reached up to pull it off over his head. His hair was damp with sweat, matted to his forehead, and Jason caught sight of the red domino mask in his reflection. He flicked his eyes down at Tim, who was watching him with an almost reverent curiosity.

“Can I come inside?” Jason asked, just loud enough to be heard through the glass and over the sound of the storm outside.

Tim’s eyes lingered on him for a moment, but he silently reached out and unlocked the door. He stepped away, leaving just enough room for Jason to slide the door open and step inside. They were in each other’s personal bubbles now, Tim's face at about the same level as Jason's nec

“Are you keeping that on?” Tim asked, pointing to his own face in a vague approximation of where a domino mask would be.

“No.” Jason shook his head, “Just need something to get it off, you got a washcloth and dish soap?”

Tim nodded, stepping back and turning to the side, “In the kitchen, soap is by the sink, and the washcloths are in the drawer next to the dishwasher.”

Jason edged by him and headed towards the kitchen. He didn’t look back to see if Tim was following him, he could hear the sound of Tim’s bare feet trailing him across the tile. Jason opened the drawer Tim indicated, pulling out a washcloth before walking over to the sink. He turned the water onto its hottest setting, held the cloth under the hot water for a few seconds, and then scrubbed a bit of dish soap onto it. Jason raised the cloth and dabbed it around the outside of his domino mask, loosening the adhesive that was holding it to his face. Jason peeled it off, rubbing at the slightly tender spots of skin left in its wake. Before Tim could say anything, Jason turned back to the skin and dropped the domino mask down into the garbage disposal, he flicked on what we thought was the correct switch, and a few seconds later his domino mask was torn to shreds.

“What the hell?” Tim gaped, staring at the sink.

“What?” Jason shrugged, “It’s biodegradable.”

It startled a surprised laugh out of Tim, he hunched over the island as his body was wracked with laughter, and Jason watched the way Tim’s shoulders shook as he tried to recompose himself.  Jason rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest as he waited for Tim to finish.

“I’m glad you find it so amusing.” Jason said as Tim wiped a tear of laughter off his cheek.

“I’m sorry,” Tim took a deep breath, “this is just so ridiculous.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re not traumatized by almost being killed.” Jason sighed, “Again.”

Tim shrugged, "It’s what, the eight time in the last two months? I’ll worry about it later.”

“Maybe if you weren’t such a reckless little shit people would stop trying to kill you every time you walk out the door.” Jason glared at him.

“I’m reckless?” Tim scoffed, “I’m not the one who throws on a costume and goes around kicking peoples asses at night.”

“I’m a lot of things, shrimp, but I’m not fuckin’ reckless.” Jason growled,

“No, I guess you’re not.” Tim sighed, running another hand through his already messy hair, “How’s…Batgirl?”

“She’s fine.” Jason said, “She’s too annoying to go down like that, doesn’t even have a concussion.”

“That’s good.” Tim tipped his head to the side, “You know, I didn’t even know there  _was_  a Batgirl. I mean, I know there used to be one, but I didn’t know there was a current one.”

Jason scoffed, “Tell me about it, I didn’t know a thing about her until last week.”

“I guess that confirms my theory that there isn’t a secret female Hyphen-Wayne child hiding out there somewhere.” Tim said, smirking.

And.

Well.

“Shit.” Jason sighed, “For someone so stupid, you sure are smart.”

“It’s not that much of a logical leap, Jason.” Tim rolled his eyes, “It’s a lot easier to figure things out once you’re armed with half the information. It also explains a lot about Damian, I can believe you guys let him carry a  _sword_.”

“We don’t let him,” Jason pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, “we make a conscious choice between keeping our fingers and letting Damian have his way.”

Tim made a humming sound and walked towards the fridge. He opened it, pulled out two water bottles, and sat one on the island within Jason’s reach. Jason watched as Tim uncapped his and took a long drink, his throat bobbing as he swallowed.

Tim wiped the back of his hands across his lips and looked at Jason, “How are you?”

“Huh?” Jason arched an eyebrow, “What do you mean?”

Tim licked his lips, the distracting bastard, “Batgirl wasn’t the only one who got hurt fighting that…thing, I was asking how you are.”

“Oh.” Jason said, “I don’t know, I’m guess I’m fine.”

“You guess?” Tim blinked at him, “How do you guess that you’re fine?”

“I didn’t exactly stick around to get myself checked out.” Jason admitted, “Just hung back to make sure Batgirl wasn’t going to die and then I came over here.”

Tim stared at him, his jaw slack, “You came over here instead of getting yourself checked out?”

“Yes.” Jason said, his voice carefully neutral.

“Why?” Tim asked.

“To make sure you didn’t fall down a manhole on your way home or something.” Jason lied, trying unsuccessfully to change the subject.

Tim sighed, putting his bottle of water back onto the counter, “And you say you’re not reckless.”

“I’m fine!” Jason growled, flinging both arms up into the air.

He let out a sharp hiss of pain, wincing when he felt a stinging pull in the back of his shoulder. It started dull, but then began to throb.

“Yep, you’re totally fine.” Tim deadpanned.

“Fuck off.” Jason glared at him, he shrugged off his leather jacket and then flipped it around to look at it, noticing the bloodstain on the inside of it.

Jason held the jacket up to the light, he frowned as he stuck his finger through a jagged hole the size of a quarter. He hadn’t realized Tim had gotten closer to him, he looked up to find Tim not in front of him, and then he felt a feather light touch on his back.

“You’re bleeding.” Tim said, “The batarang must have pierced your armor.”

“Some fuckin’ armor this is, can’t even stop a fake god damn batarang.” Jason tried to take a deep breath to calm himself, “I’ll get it looked at later.”

“It might get infected.” Tim pointed out.

Jason twisted his head, glaring over his shoulder at Tim, “If I get an infection from your apartment then we’ve got a bigger problem than my cut-up shoulder.”

“My apartment is spotless.” Tim said, “You might, however, get an infection from the floors you were rolling on around school.”

“Jesus!” Jason spat, angrily grabbing his jacket and ignoring the pain that shot though him, “Do you want me to leave that bad? Fine, I’ll get my fucking shoulder looked at. Peace out, short ass.”

Jason was about half way to the sliding glass door when Tim called out his name, “Jason!”

Jason stopped in his tracks, clenching his fists as he took a deep breath to try and quell his anger.

“What?” Jason growled.

“I was trying to tell you that I can clean it up for you, asshole.” Tim was glaring daggers at the ground when Jason turned around.

“What?” Jason asked, “You just said I probably need stitches, you gonna give me those too?”

“If you want.” Tim said, then corrected himself, “If you trust me to.”

Jason stared at him, his mouth slightly parted, “No offense, but what do you know about giving people stitches?”

Tim pushed himself away from the counter and walked across the apartment, stopping just a foot in front of Jason. He didn’t say anything, he just reached up to the collar of his shirt and tugged it down, revealing a slim collar bone and a swath of pale skin. He tugged the shirt to the side a little more, exposing a collection of scars on the upper part of his chest. A few of them were small, twisted round shapes that Jason recognized as bullet wounds, and there was another one near them. It was a jagged line, probably about five inches in length. It didn’t look like a knife wound, more like a scar from a broken piece of glass.

Jason’s own body was a battlefield of scars. Some of them he had fond memories of, ones he treasured because he’d gotten them doing something  _good_ , and then there we dozens he hated. There were a few that even made him feel sick when he looked at them, memories always flooded back when he saw them.

“I got shot the night my parents were killed,” Tim said quietly, “I fell into a glass coffee table and broke it, and a big piece of glass broke off inside me.”

“Shit.” Jason whispered, in absence of anything else to say.

“Anyway,” Tim coughed, pulling his shirt back into place, “I kept ripping the stitches after I got out of the hospital, I learned how to do them myself so I didn’t have to have someone bring me back to the hospital every two days.”

“How?” Jason asked.

“I kept having nightmares when I slept, the tossing and turning made me tear out my stitches so I’d wake up with blood everywhere…” Tim trailed off, he looked mortified with wide eyes, “and that wasn’t the how you were asking about.”

“No.” Jason shook his head, then, “I’m sorry.”

“Whatever.” Tim said dismissively, quickly recovering, at least externally, “I watched videos online until I was sure I could do it, stole a can of lidocaine spray from the hospital to numb myself, and then did it. Every time I ripped them all I had to do was wash my sheets and go sew myself back up in the bathroom.”

Jason didn’t know what to say. He’d never expected someone like Timothy Drake to have to do that to himself.

“Anyway,” Tim said, filling the silence, “I’m offering.”

Jason stared at Tim for a moment, and just before the awkward silence got too awkward, he nodded, “OK.”

“OK.” Tim repeated, he pointed towards the living room, “Take your shirt off and go sit on the coffee table, the overhead lighting is better in the living room.”

Tim didn’t say anything else, he turned his back and disappeared down the hallway. Jason stared at the spot he’d been standing with what had to be a dumb ass look on his face. He’d fantasized about Tim telling him to take his clothes off more than was probably viewed as socially acceptable, but it certainly wasn’t under this condition.

In a different situation, Jason would have been able to block out the anxiety of Tim seeing some of the scars on his body with overwhelming desire for Tim's hands all over him, but not now. He did as Tim instructed and walked into the living room, he stood in front of the solid looking coffee table and sighed, he unzipped the armored shirt he wore and tossed it to the side, leaving him standing in the middle of the room with only his tight fit undershirt.

His fingers toyed with the bottom edge of his shirt, and he took a deep breath as he pulled it over his head. He tossed the undershirt on top of his armor and sat on the edge of the coffee table, wrapping his arms around himself to try and cover up a bit more.

 He consciously kept his left hand away from the spot on his ribs that was missing a small chunk of skin that was a perfect match for the teeth of a crowbar.

Jason looked up when he heard the sound of footsteps, Tim walked back into view with a white plastic box in his hand. He didn’t say anything as he hopped over the couch, he took a seat behind Jason and sat the box next to him, popping it open to let Jason see what was inside. It contained everything you’d need for a quick set of stitches.

Tim’s long fingers reached into the box and grabbed a pair of blue gloves, he slid them on and then ripped the top of an alcohol swab packet off. Jason braced himself for the stinging pain of disinfectant, and closed his eyes as he felt Tim’s finger press into the skin of his back.

He waited for Tim to ask him questions about any of the scars, but none came.

“Are you allergic to lidocaine?” Tim asked.

“No.” Jason shook his head, “You still have the same one you stole?”

Tim laughed, reaching around and showing Jason a damn near industrial sized can of numbing spray, “I stole the biggest one I could find.”

“Careful what crimes you admit to.” Jason warned as Tim sprayed his back.

“These aren’t the droids you’re looking for.” Tim said in a terrible, deep British accent.

Jason laughed as the tingling sensation from the lidocaine spread across his shoulder, “You’re such a fuckin’ nerd, Wicket.”

“That’s the second time you’ve failed to insult me by calling me an Ewok.” Tim pointed out, “I like Ewok’s, it’s a compliment more than anything.”

“Maybe I like Ewok’s too, asshole.” Jason said before he could stop himself.

“Whatever you say, Jar Jar.”

Jason’s eyes went wide, “Oh, fuck you! That’s way too far!”

“I just stuck a needle under your skin.” Tim reminded him, “Stop moving.”

Jason hadn't even felt Tim make the first stitch, maybe he was good at this. Jason sat there quietly as Tim worked, he didn’t feel any pain, only the uncomfortable sensation of the thread being pulled tight under his skin. It could be worse, he knew that was for damn sure.

The image on the TV was still paused on a shot of Batdick mid fight, reminding Jason that there was something he still didn’t know, “Tim?”

“Hmm?” Tim hummed in response.

“How did you figure out it was me?” Jason asked cautiously.

“Oh.” He felt Tim pause behind him, his fingers lingering against Jason’s skin, “Um, whatever was happening to me in that room kinda…brought some different memories to the front of my brain. I guess it was a couple different things that I just happened to put together at the right moment.”

“Like?” Jason asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

“Um, well, you both fight the same, so that was part of it.” Tim said, “Also, you called me what the Red Hood calls me, but you did it as Jason.”

“Wait, what?” Jason almost turned to face him, but then he remembered the needle under his skin.

“He…the…you…” Tim finally settled on one, “kept calling me Little Prince when you were the Red Hood, and then you called me that when you found me in the auditorium. I didn’t remember it until I tried to remember everything from that day, but once I did it was kind of obvious.”

“Oh. Well, shit.” Jason said dully, “Fuck, Bruce would kill me if he were around to see this.”  

“Bruce Wayne…” Tim said his name cautiously, like he was afraid it would set Jason off, “he was  _the_  Batman, wasn’t he?”

“Yeah, he was.” Jason said softly.

“I’m sorry.” Tim said, “I shouldn’t have…I know how it sucks to have to talk about it.”

“It’s fine.” Jason shook his head, “I don’t mind talking about it with you.”

Tim didn’t say anything, but Jason felt a few more tugs against his skin. Tim reached into the box and grabbed a pair of scissors, and Jason heard the snip of excess thread being cut away. Tim patted him on the back, and Jason turned around to look at him.

While Tim busied himself cleaning up, Jason answered the question Tim was too polite to ask, “Bruce died the day of the explosion, the Batman that went in after him was the same one that attacked us tonight. When Batman didn’t show up for a few nights, everyone thought he was dead. It was only a matter of time before people started their conspiracy theories, and even the slightest connection of Bruce to Batman wouldn’t have been good for anyone. So Bruce is dead, Dick is Batman, and no one is any wiser.”

Tim pulled off his gloves and balled them up, dropping them on the table next to the plastic box, “You didn’t have to tell me that.”

“I’m sure you had it mostly figured out anyway.” Jason managed a half smile, “It’s fine, Tim. I trust you, even thought I’m waiting for you to get mad at me.”

“Mad?” Tim looked confused, “Why would I get mad?”

Jason tried to wave the question away, “Because I lied to you or whatever.”

“You didn’t lie to me, I never asked you if you were the Red Hood.” Tim said.

“That’s a surprisingly mature response.” Jason said with a laugh, "I expected you to hold it against me or something."

Tim rolled his eyes, “I do have one question though.”

Jason didn’t like the sound of that, “OK.”

“Were you watching me on purpose?” Tim asked.

“Watching you?” Jason arched an eyebrow, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I met you at school, all that stuff happened, and then you show up at the Red Hood that same night.” Tim was quiet for a second, “I guess I’m just curious to know if you were only hanging around, being my friend or whatever, because you knew stuff about my dad and Black Mask.”

 “Tim…” Jason wanted to reach out, but he stopped himself, “I didn’t know any of that when I met you, not even that night when you first saw me as the Red Hood. I kept looking into it because I was worried about you, and that’s how I found out about the stuff with Black Mask and your dad. There wasn’t like, an ulterior motive or anything.”

“Just making sure.” Tim said, smiling a bit, “You’re an asshole, but I guess you’re not the worst person to have around.

“Thank you for such a ringing endorsement.” Jason deadpanned, he went to say something else, but he was cut off by a deep yawn that came from his mouth.

“Shit.” Jason cleared his throat, “The god damn sun is about to come up, isn’t it?”

“In about an hour.” Tim said, yawning himself, “I guess I’m skipping another day of school.”

“Everyone probably is.” Jason said, remembering the sight of the Batmobile parked on the front lawn, “I’m pretty sure that damn place is cursed.”

Jason stood up from the coffee table and walked back towards his discarded shirt, he reached down and shook it out.

“You can stay if you want.” Tim said, “You look like you’re about to pass out, and I don’t know if I can in good faith let you swing around the city half asleep.”

Jason didn’t say anything, he didn’t trust himself to not make an ass out of himself. First Tim asked him to take his clothes off, and now Tim was asking him to stay the night. Jason was momentarily worried he was dreaming a Greatest Hits playlist of his Tim related fantasies.

“The couch is actually really comfortable. I have a spare room but it doesn’t have a bed.” Tim said, “I think I have some spare blankets somewhere.”

Nope.

He was awake.

Dreams where Tim asked him to stay the night didn’t end with Jason sleeping alone on the couch.

Still, it was better than nothing.

“You sure?” Jason asked.

Tim shrugged, “As long as your family doesn’t break into my apartment because they’re worried about you.”

“I’ll text them and let them know.” Jason said, pulling his phone out of his pocket, sending a text to Babs, who would circulate it to everyone else.

“You can use my shower if you want.” Tim said, “The stitches are waterproof. I might be able to find something of mine for you to sleep in that won’t be too tight.”

Fuck.

There was no way Jason was leaving this apartment without popping an inappropriate boner now.

“A shower does sound good.” Jason said honestly, he’d been covered in dried sweat and blood for too long now, and he was dying to feel the excruciatingly wonderful heat of hot water pounding on the stiff muscles in his back.

“The master bathroom is the best, so you can just use that.” Tim said, waving Jason after him.

He took a deep breath and followed, happy that Tim’s back was too him, so Tim couldn’t see the splotchy red color on his chest. He followed Tim into his bedroom and Jason took it in. It looked exactly how Jason expected it to, clean, hardly lived in. The bed was big, and it looked incredibly soft, but it was the only messy thing about the room. The desk was neatly organized, in stark contrast to the one in Jason’s own room. It looked like all Tim did in his room was sleep.

The bathroom was about as big as the bedroom, and god damn Jason couldn't wait to try out that shower. There were jets along the sides of the walls, and a rainfall head at the top. Jason could spend a lot of time in a shower that nice.

“Shampoo and everything is already in the shower.” Tim pointed to a linen closet next to the door that led back to his bedroom, “The towels are in there. I’ll leave a change of clothes out for you on my bed, come find me when you’re done.”

Jason nodded, “You’re just gonna let me have free roam in your bathroom? Nothing you want to hide first?”

“No?” Tim looked at Jason like he’d grown another head.

“OK. Just remember I gave you a fair warning, Thumbelina.” Jason smirked, “I reserve the right to torture you endlessly if I find your stash of condoms and lube.”

Tim’s face went from pale to red before Jason even finished, “I…what…no…those…what?”

“Relax, Tim.” Jason laughed, “I’m just messing with you.”

“Asshole.” Tim muttered, turning, and leaving the bathroom.

Tim closed the door behind him, and Jason undressed and quickly hopped into the shower. He started out with the water on cold, because teasing Tim about condoms and lube was not an effective way to keep himself from getting worked up, and he felt really awkward sporting a semi in Tim’s shower. He didn’t linger in the shower, as much as he wanted to stand under the spray and work out the kinks in his back and neck, he didn’t want Tim to get the wrong idea.

Jason washed his hair, scrubbed his body with some kind of grainy fancy body scrub, and then cut the water off. He grabbed a towel from the closet Tim pointed out, drying himself off enough so that whatever clothes Tim set out for him wouldn’t cling to his body even more than they probably already would.

He opened the door to Tim’s room and stuck his head out, finding the room empty and the door to the bedroom closed. There were several pieces of clothing laid out on the bed, Jason picked through them until he found some that would probably fit him comfortably. The black shirt he pulled out was only a little tight around his midsection, and the pajama pants stopped just above his ankles, but neither were uncomfortable.

Maybe it was the soft material, or maybe it was the idea that he was wearing Tim’s clothes.

Jason decided it had to be the soft material, because that was the less creepy option.

When Jason stepped out of Tim’s room, he found the apartment dimly lit. The lights in the hall had been turned off, as well as the main one in the living room. He could see the flashing lights from the TV, and a soft yellow light from the kitchen, but that was about it. The closer Jason got to the living room, the more he could hear the sounds of fighting coming from the TV.

Jason wandered into the living room and stooped just short of running into the coffee table, he stared at the TV in disbelief as he looked at the screen and saw a video of himself as Robin, working besides Batman to bring down Scarecrow. The video footage was grainy, and almost too pixelated to see anything interesting, but Jason would recognize the uniform anywhere. He watched himself flip across the screen, his body much smaller than it currently was.

“Tim…” Jason looked from the screen to where Tim sat on the couch with his legs tucked under himself, “how is there a video of me as Robin on your TV.”

Tim abruptly paused the video, looking up with wide eyes, “That’s  _you_?”

“Yeah, I think I’m probably like twelve years old here.” Jason dropped down onto the couch, “Where did you find this?”

“I might have hacked into a private YouTube account to get access to an unlisted private video that was uploaded six years ago.” Tim said.

“Jesus.” Jason whispered, slowly sitting down on the couch next to Tim, close enough for their knees to touch, “Play it, I wanna watch.”

Tim’s lips turned up into a small smile, he reached for the remote again and pressed play.

“Thank god this is the version of the costume with pants.” Jason shuddered, “Those first few months were rough.”

Tim looked over at him, “I hope you know this means I’m going to scour the internet looking for pictures of you in that costume. I’ll go onto the dark web if I have to.”

“I think Alf still has copies of all the ones I burned a few years ago.” Jason said, “Maybe if you’re nice to him the next time you come over for dinner, he’ll let you see.”

“I’m still invited?” Tim asked.

“Of course.” Jason said immediately.

The Jason on the screen flipped through the air in a split, kicking two of Scarecrow’s thugs in the face at the same time.

“Can you still do that?” Tim asked, laughing.

“Dunno.” Jason shrugged, “I haven’t tried it in a long time.”

“Robin, evacuate the civilians.” Jason froze as he heard Bruce’s voice come through the speakers.

It was odd hearing him now, it was almost like Jason had forgotten what he sounded like. Batman’s blurry form moved across the screen, he jumped out of the way of whatever bomb Scarecrow had just thrown from up in the tower he was perched on. Jason jumped back onto the screen, he rolled across the floor and scooped up the same bomb Scarecrow had just thrown, winding his arm up and throwing it back up at him like a baseball. The bomb exploded halfway, weakening the structural integrity of the tower, and Scarecrow tumbled out of it as it leaned sideways.

Batman rushed over to Scarecrow, kneeing him in the back of the head to knock him out before slapping a pair of handcuffs on him. Jason was off to the side, cuffing a ring of Scarecrow thugs together by the ankle. Batman walked over to him and dropped a hand on his shoulder, Jason could see the way his younger self leaned into the touch.

“You did good today, Robin.” Batman said.

“Really?” Jason asked, looking up at Batman with a hesitant smile.

“Really.” Batman said, “You managed to get Scarecrow down before he could deploy his gas, you saved a lot of lives.”

The Jason on the screen didn’t say anything for a moment, and then he squared his shoulders and puffed his chest out, “I was just doing my job, Batman.”

The video was blurry, so Jason wasn’t entirely sure if what he was seeing was  _actually_  a smile on Bruce’s face, but Batman reached down and ruffled the hair on Jason’s head before the video abruptly cut to black.

Jason stared at the black screen of the TV for a few more seconds, trying to process exactly what he’d seen. Tim shifting beside him drew him back to the present, he cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his head. He had plenty of photos of him and Bruce, even a few videos recorded of them over the years, but there was nothing of Robin and Batman that showed Bruce being _proud_ of him. 

“Wow, I don’t remember that at all.” Jason said, his voice sounding rough even to his own ears.

Tim didn’t say anything as he stood, but Jason watched him walk over to the TV and pull something out of the side of it. Tim walked back over to Jason and grabbed his hand, opening his fingers so his palm was flat. Tim pressed a small flash drive into Jason’s hand and then closed his fingers around it.

 

art by [khachalala](https://khachalala.tumblr.com/)

 

“You keep it.” Tim said softly, his hand still resting on top of Jason’s closed fist.

Jason looked up at Tim and tried not to cry as a wave of weirdly intense happy melancholia crashed into him. It was such a simple gesture, hardly one worth over examining, but it felt weirdly intimate. He realized how easy it would be to pull Tim down into his lap and press their lips together, he could see him kissing Tim for hours after this, and part of him thought that Tim might actually want that too, but the part of Jason that wanted to do things right didn’t want his first time kissing Tim to be when he was on the verge of crying while remembering everything that Bruce meant to him.

It felt like it would be an insult to Bruce, and an insult to Tim to try to use him to avoid those feelings.

“Thank you.” Jason whispered instead.

“You’re welcome.” Tim still hadn’t pulled his hand away from Jason’s, he was smiling softly, “Get some sleep, Jason.”

Jason nodded, shivering as Tim’s fingers brushed over his wrist when he finally pulled away, “Goodnight, Tim.”

Tim turned and walked silently back to his room. He disappeared down the long hallway, and Jason laid down on the couch, pulling the blanket Tim brought for him over his body. His eyes felt heavy as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Jason drifted off into sleep, the flash drive still in his hand, just as the sun began to rise over the city.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was a fun chapter to write, hope you enjoyed! i look forward to the comments!


	15. Scars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FIRST!!! khachalala blessed me with [ANOTHER wonderful drawing](https://khachalala.tumblr.com/post/180107320637/night-time-my-time-chapter-11-lscar123-tim), this time of the final scene last chapter and it's so amazing and perfect and unexpected that i literally cannot express how much i love it so everyone go give it extra love for me 

 

 

 

 

 

15

Scars

 

Jason stood in front of an old theatre, the door was wide open, and an abyss of blackness stared back at him. A gust of wind came from inside the theatre, blowing past him like air through a canyon. His cape fluttered in the wind, the sound of rippling fabric the only thing Jason could hear.

Except, Jason didn’t wear a cape anymore.

He looked down at his feet and stared at the thick green boots in shock. He ran to the ticket window and stared at his reflection. His hair was windswept, a red domino mask covered his face, and a yellow cape was draped over the shoulders of his red and green vest.

Jason was Robin again.

“What the fuck?” Jason whispered.

The sound of a breaker flipping drew Jason’s attention, he stepped back from the ticket window and looked up to see the theatre’s marquee lit up, advertising the night’s show with golden flashing lights.

 

**TAMING OF THE DRAKE**

**ONE NIGHT ONLY**

Jason stepped inside the lobby of the theatre. It was empty, devoid of any life, and littered with trash. Old newspapers crunched beneath his feet as he walked, and a stray beer bottle rolled across the floor until it clinked against the far wall. The lights above him flashed several times, Jason remembered that it was a warning that meant the show was about to start.

He reached for the golden bar on the padded door in front of him and pulled it open, staring at the room in front of him with wonder. The lobby to the theatre was destroyed, but the theatre itself was in immaculate condition. It looked bigger than the building itself suggested, red velvet seats, a high arched ceiling with a crystal chandelier handing from the middle, it reminded Jason of the theatre Babs had taken him to see The Phantom of the Opera in when they went to New York together when he was thirteen.

Jason walked down the aisle until he was at the front row, the lights in the theatre dimmed, and Jason felt compelled to take a seat. He walked to the middle of the front row, pulled down a chair, and moved his cape to the side so he could settle down into it. The theatre was swathed in darkness for a few minutes, and then a single spotlight shone down on center stage.

Tim was on the stage, sitting on a stool as he was illuminated by the spotlight.

“Tim?” Jason called out.

An echo of phantom voices came from behind Jason, hissing and shushing him. Jason looked over his shoulder, but he was the only one in the entire theatre aside from Tim. Just as Jason was about to stand, loud music began to play through the entire theatre. It was a spastic kind of music, it swelled and got louder the longer it went on, the only thing Jason could compare it to was circus music.

More lights filled the stage now, they swung upwards towards the top of the stage, and the empty theatre burst into a round of applause as something began to lower itself from the ceiling. The lights focused on it, but it took Jason a few seconds to realize what it was.

A giant crowbar descended from the ceiling, and the Joker was stretched out across the crowbar, laying sideways with his leg dangling off and his head propped up by his elbow. He was dressed head to toe in purple, and there was a top hat on his head that made him look like something out of A Chorus Line.

Jason’s mouth went dry as he watched the giant crowbar lower itself to the stage. He opened his mouth to scream, to say something, anything to warn Tim about who was behind him, but his screams were drowned out by the applause from the phantom crowd.

The crowbar slowed as it got closer to the stage, and once it came to a stop, the Joker hopped off and walked to the front of the stage. A white gloved hand ruffled Tim’s hair as he walked by, and the Joker stood in front of him, sweeping an arm across the stage and taking a grand bow.

“Welcome, welcome!” The Joker grinned, “It’s wonderful to see so many smiling faces out in the audience tonight!”

The phantom crowed laughed, and Jason was paralyzed with fear as he looked up at the Joker.

“We’ve got a very special show for you tonight, one that I promise will be skull shatteringly exhilarating.” Joker gave an exaggerated wink to the crowd, and then slyly pointed a white gloved finger at Tim.

The Joker danced across the stage, skipping to the beat of a music he could only hear in his head until he was standing directly behind Tim. He leaned forward and draped his arms over Tim’s shoulders, resting his chin on the top of Tim’s head.

Jason felt his stomach lurch, he tried to get out of the seat, but he couldn’t move. All he could do was watch.

“We’ve got a special guest with us hear tonight, tell us your name!”

Tim blinked several times, “Tim Drake.”

Joker clapped his hands together right in front of Tim’s face, “Tim Drake, everyone! Give him a round of applause!”

The empty theatre roared with applause, voices screaming and cheering Tim’s name.

“Now, Timmy boy!” The Joker ran around to the front of Tim, dropping down to his knees and looking up at him, “We’re here tonight to find out the answer to a very simple question!”

“What is it?” Tim asked.

The Joker hopped up onto his feet and stood next to Tim, dropping a hand onto his shoulder, and squeezing it, “Do you think that if you were falling in space, that you would slow down after a while or go faster and faster?”

The entire room fell silent. It was the kind of silence that was painful, the kind of silence that made your ears ring. No one moved, neither Tim or the Joker blinked, Jason couldn’t even hear the sound of his own heart beating.

After several long minutes of agonizing silence, Tim answered, “Faster and faster, and for a long time you wouldn’t feel anything, and then you’d burst into fire. Forever. And the angels wouldn’t help you, because they’ve all gone away.”

The Joker pressed a gloved hand over his mouth, and a single tear fell from his eye, streaking it’s way down his pale white face. Jason waited for the Joker to say something, but he just stared silently as Tim. The Joker opened his mouth as if he was going to speak, but he kicked his leg out instead, sweeping it across the stage and under the stool that Tim was on. The stool was kicked out from under Tim, and Tim’s body fell to the stage as the stool tumbled into the wings behind the curtains.

Tim laid there motionless, and the Joker shoved his hand out to the side, turning to the side of the stage and yelling, “Prop!”

A streak of motion caught Jason’s attention as something was thrown onto the stage from the wings, the Joker caught it mid-air and flipped it around in his hands. The invisible crowd gasped in awe as the Joker thrust it up into the air, angling it just right so the spotlight glinted off the cold metal surface of the crowbar in his hands.

“Hello, Jason.” The Joker smirked, looking directly at him for the first time, “How’ve you been, little bird?”

Jason’s throat closed up, he was unable to speak.

“Nothing to say?” The Joker frowned, “But we had so many good conversations together!”

Jason still couldn’t speak.

“Oh well.” The Joker shrugged, he pointed the crowbar at Jason, the end of it rusty and caked with dried blood, “This is going to hurt you a lot more than it does me.”

The Joker turned and walked over to Tim, lifting the crowbar above his head, he looked back at Jason once and tipped his head back, dark laughter that echoed around the entire theatre pouring out of his mouth as he swung the crowbar down in a heavy arc towards Tim’s head.

Right before the crowbar hit Tim’s head, Jason was finally able to scream, “Tim!”

 

X

 

Jason jolted awake, his hands reaching out for something to grab hold of. He gripped the edge of the couch, tightly squeezing his eyes shut to block out the weightless feeling of falling. He inhaled deeply, holding the breath in for a few seconds, and then let out a shaky breath as he opened his eyes. He stared up at the unfamiliar lofty ceilings of Tim’s apartment, willing himself to swallow the scream that was still in his throat.

Cold, sticky sweat covered Jason’s body, the borrowed shirt sticking to him like an uncomfortable second skin. He sat up on the couch, running a hand through his damp hair, and looked around for something to tell the time with. His phone was too far away, but the blinking digital clock under the TV told just shy of 9am. The time didn’t compute in his head, the living room was still shrouded in darkness, but Jason realized that there were heavy shades covering the large windows, blocking out all of the early morning sunlight in the apartment. He’d been so tired last night he hadn’t even noticed Tim lowered them.

Jason swung his body around, his legs hanging off the couch. He pushed his feet into the plush rug spread out on the floor, jerking his neck to the side to try and work the kink out of it. Tim’s couch wasn’t horrible, but it wasn’t exactly something he wanted to spend the night sleeping on again. If he was going to sleep anywhere in Tim’s apartment, he’d rather it be Tim’s bed.

He shook his head, dislodging the thought from his mind. It wasn’t something he needed to focus on now, not after everything that happened. Jason was lucky Tim still trusted him after everything, Jason was lucky he was even allowed in Tim’s apartment to begin with. He stretched out his back, then reached behind his shoulder to poke at the wound Tim had stitched up last night. It didn’t hurt as bad as it did when he’d gone to sleep, and his fingers didn’t have any blood on them, so Tim must have done a good job.

Jason stood up from the couch and walked into the kitchen. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness, so it wasn’t too hard to find his way around Tim’s sparse furniture. He found a button on the wall that didn’t look like it controlled any of the lights, so he jammed it in with his thumb and closed his eyes in early defense as the heavy shades in front of the windows began to roll up.

He hesitantly opened his eyes when the sunlight hit his eyelids, and winced as his corneas were burnt away. The sunlight was overpowering, the warm amber hues sweeping over the city on the other side of the glass, but it felt better than sitting alone in a dark apartment while Tim slept. He busied himself walking around the kitchen, pressing his palms into the cold marble countertops while he tried to think of what to do next.

It had been a few weeks since he’d woke up from a nightmare, not since the morning he’d woken up in the clocktower after dreaming he was still stuck in the Joker’s coffin. He didn’t like the fact that Tim was subject to the violence of his dream and not himself, it was even more unsettling to see the Joker standing over Tim with that fucking crowbar than it was to see it from his own point of view. The nightmares were always worse when it was him hurting someone he cared about rather than Jason himself.

Jason turned away from the windows and dug the hells of his palms into his eyes, rubbing the sleep away as he sighed. It wouldn’t do him any good to think about the nightmare, to keep replaying it on a loop to figure out exactly what it meant. Jason knew what it meant, it meant he was fucked up and was worried about other people getting hurt because of him. It wasn’t a new feeling, and it wasn’t one he thought was going to go away any time soon.

He opened up the fridge instead, immediately frowning at the lack of food inside. There was a pizza box, a few cartons of Chinese food, a thing of almond milk, and a few dozen bottles of water. Jason tipped his head to the side, as if viewing the fridge from a different angle would magically make more food appear.

It didn’t.

Jason rolled his eyes and closed the fridge, turning to the cabinets in search of food. They all provided an astonishing lack of food. There were a few boxes of cereal, a bag of chips, and a shit ton of stuff to make coffee with.

No wonder Tim was so short, he’d obviously been suffering from malnutrition because he didn’t know how to feed himself.

He could already feel the ache setting in from the fight last night, and it would only get worse if he delayed getting something into his system. If he was at the manor, there would already be a spread of replenishing food on the table, but he wasn’t. Jason was no Alfred, but it didn’t mean he didn’t know his way around the kitchen. It wouldn’t take much time to put something together, but that would only work if he had actual ingredients to cook with.

Cooking breakfast was the least he could do to thank Tim, and it would just be a coincidence if Jason happened to end up stocking Tim’s kitchen in the process. He didn’t have much in the way of a wardrobe, but the combat pants of his uniform could pass for normal once he took all the padding and armor off of them, and his leather jacket could cover up most of the ill-fitting shirt he’d borrowed from Tim, as long as people ignored the hole in the back of it.

He quickly swapped out his clothes, praying Tim didn’t walk into the living room to find Jason standing there without any pants on, and then walked over to the sliding glass door to unlock it. It would be his only way back into Tim’s apartment once he had the groceries he needed, and it would be interesting to see just how successful he’d be in trying to grapple his way up a building while carrying bags full of food.

Jason was always up for a challenge.

 

X

 

Tim woke slowly, he grabbed his pillow and covered his face with it, kicking himself for not remembering to lower the shades before he fell asleep last night. He’d managed to sleep through sunrise though, so he was thankful for small miracles. His bed was soft and inviting, and he felt like he’d actually gotten a decent night of sleep for once. Once the adrenaline from the night wore off, Tim fell asleep pretty quickly.

Groaning, he lifted the pillow from his face and sat up in bed. Tim yawned, stretching his arms above his head before leaning to the side and tapping his phone on the nightstand. It was a little after 10:30am, and Tim wondered if Jason was awake yet.

Or rather, Tim wondered if Jason would still be there when Tim walked out of his room.

He wouldn’t blame Jason if he was gone, the night had been oddly emotionally charged, and Tim could see the emotion that welled up in him when he watched the video of himself and Batman. He’d seen Jason look vulnerable before, but the look on Jason’s face after he watched the video was something completely different.

Tim pushed himself out of bed, reaching down and grabbing his discarded shirt from where he’d thrown it on the floor before bed. He pulled it on, then ran a hand through his long hair to try and fix it back into place without looking at it. It was getting too long, probably longer than it had ever been before, but Tim would find time to schedule a haircut once he figured out the rest of the insanity in his life.

Tim’s hair nearly reaching his shoulders paled in comparison to a psychotic therapist hypnotizing him and the erasing his memories of the incident.

Which, yeah, he pretty much remembered now thanks to a series of increasingly terrifying and enlightening dreams.

He hoped Jason was still there, because there was one particular thing he remembered that Tim needed to tell his personally.

“Hey Jason,” Tim mumbled to himself, “you know how that crazy guy tried to brainwash me? Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure he also admitted to also killing your dad.”

Tim made a detour to his bathroom to quickly brush his teeth, then opened the door to his bedroom, stepped out into the hallway, and immediately froze. He could tell something was different, but he wasn’t entirely sure what it was yet. He could see the living room washed with light, meaning Jason had at least opened the shades, but there was still something different. Tim took another step forward, and then realized he could hear the soft hum of music playing over the Bluetooth speakers that were wired through the entire apartment. The second thing Tim realized, was that he could smell something cooking.

That was virtually impossible, because Tim knew he didn’t have anything in his apartment that could actually be cooked. He might have accidentally forgotten to go to the grocery store a few times during the week.  

 The closer that Tim got to the kitchen, the more he could smell what was cooking. The wafting scent of bacon hit his nose, and Tim immediately felt his mouth begin to water. The music got louder too, the slow rhythmic beats meeting Tim’s ears. He walked around the corner and paused, staring at the scene in front of him.

Jason’s back was to Tim, he was standing at the stove and wearing a shirt with cutoff sleeves that Tim was positive he didn’t own. Jason’s hips were swaying slowly along to the music, and Tim couldn’t miss the way the muscles in his back moved as he lifted the cast iron pan off the stove.

Tim forgot he even had a cast iron pan, he was pretty sure he wouldn’t have even been able to find it if he was looking for it anyway.

There was a line of ingredients set up to Jason’s right, a cutting board sat in the sink, along with one of the stainless steel knifes from the butcher block Tim bought on a whim. One clear bowl was filled with diced tomatoes, a bag of spinach sat open next to it, and Jason picked up a bowl of what looked like whisked egg whites and poured it into another pan that was on the stove.

The eggs sizzled as Jason poured them into the pan, and Jason used a pair of tongs that looked brand new to flip the bacon.

“Uh…” Tim said hesitantly, “Jason?”

Jason looked over his shoulder, “Oh, hey.”

“Hi.” Tim stared at the scene in front of him with confusion, “What’s happening?”

Jason snorted in amusement, “What does it look like, Captain Underpants? I’m cooking breakfast.”

“Captain…” Tim trailed off, looking down to make sure he was wearing pants, “I _see_ that you’re cooking, but I don’t know _how_. Where did all this come from?”

Tim swept his hands out in a grand gesture, indicating everything that was currently sitting out on the counter.

“I bought it, obviously.” Jason said, rolling his eyes, “I was starving, and you apparently haven’t gone grocery shopping since 2007, so I had to take matters into my own hands. Getting your ass kicked every night takes a lot out of you, so I’ve gotta replenish.”

There were several bags from the corner store down the block sticking out of the trashcan, and Jason’s wallet had a receipt sticking out of it where it sat on the counter. Jason had gone shopping, Tim just didn’t know how.

“How?” Tim blinked at him, “Oh god, did you pick my locks to get back in?”

Jason tipped his head back and laughed, “Not quite. I took the easier option and jumped off your roof, grappled down to the street, went to the store, and then grappled back up and let myself in through your balcony.”

“The easier option.” Tim repeated, “You grappled up the entire building while carrying bags of groceries?”

Jason shrugged, “It’s not the weirdest thing I’ve ever carried while swinging through the city.”

Tim gave up, he threw his arms up in surrender and pulled a stool out from under the island, dropping down into it to watch Jason as he worked. To be honest, Tim didn’t exactly care about the particulars of how Jason got all the food into his apartment, the smell of the food and the promise of a home cooked meal was enough for him to overlook the absurdity.

“It smells good.” Tim said, smiling.

“Thanks.” Jason flipped the omelet in the pan, “I’m making egg white omelets with spinach and tomato, and a ridiculously unhealthy amount of bacon to go with it.”

“Bacon is always good.” Tim smiled, “You need any help?”

Jason shook his head, “Nah, I’m almost done.”

Jason pulled the cast iron pan off the stove, dropping the bacon onto a plate with a paper towel over it. He took half to tomatoes and spinach and dropped them into the pan with the eggs, folding the top part of the omelet over and letting it cook for a little bit longer. He pulled out another pan, and Tim honestly had no idea where all these pans were coming from, and poured in the rest of the egg whites to start on a second omelet. Jason hummed softly as the music continued to play, though he stopped swaying.

“Wait.” Tim said, the realization suddenly dawning on him, “How are you connected to the speakers, I know I didn’t give you the Wi-Fi password.”

Jason looked back at Tim and smirked, “What? You think you’re the only one who knows how to do a little hacking?”

“You hacked me?” Tim laughed, “You hacked my home network, so you could listen to music while you cooked?”

“A little Janet Jackson in the morning never hurt anyone.” Jason said.

Jason grabbed a piece of bacon from the plate and bit into it, a drop of grease dripped onto his chin and Tim really shouldn’t have found that as enticing as he did. Jason picked up the plate and sat it in the middle of the island, pushing it towards Tim before grabbing a paper towel and wiping his chin and hands. Tim couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually had bacon, but it smelled delicious.

He’d eaten three pieces in the time it took Jason to finish their omelets.

Jason gave the dwindling pile of bacon a knowing look, but didn’t say anything about it as he sat the plate down in front of Tim, “Cheese?”

“Nah, I’m good.” Tim said.

“Suit yourself.” Jason shrugged, and then poured a bit of crumbled feta onto his omelet.

Tim speared the omelet with his fork, making sure he got a bite with everything in it, and groaned when he popped it into his mouth. It was probably the best omelet he’d ever had in his life, and he’d had a lot thanks to the one nanny he used to have who only cooked omelets for some reason.

“Holy shit, Jay.” Tim said, swallowing, “This is amazing.”

Jason’s smile was shy, a little embarrassed even, “It’s nothing anything special.”

“It’s perfect.” Tim said, taking another bite, “If you ever decided to give up on the whole vigilante justice thing, I think you have a real future as a professional omelet maker.”

Jason laughed, shaking his head, “I can make more than just omelets, Egg head.”

“Well, omelets are the only thing I’ve ever eaten of yours.” Tim paused, and then added a few seconds later, “I’d like to try more though.”

Jason seemed startled at that, “Really?”

Tim nodded, smiling, “Really.”

“It might have to be at the Manor.” Jason said casually, “For such a nice place, your kitchen is pretty shit.”

“I didn’t really factor in a kitchen when I was looking for a place. I just wanted somewhere high up and with security.” Tim shrugged, “I don’t mind the Manor, it’s nice.”

“You say that now, but wait until you have to be around Damian for more than half an hour.” Jason shuddered, “Dick too, wait until he finds out that you know about everything.”

“Is he going to be mad?” Tim asked, watching Jason pull a piece of spinach out of his omelet and eat it on its own.

“Nah, at least not for long. He’ll probably just be pissed someone else figured it out.” Jason said, “He’s a lot easier going than Bruce. If Bruce were still around, he’d probably have you locked up in the Bat Cave right now.”

Tim stared at him, “I'm sorry, did you just say _Bat Cave_?”

Tim had never really stopped an analyzed the various Bat-related items that surrounded the whole Batman crusade, but hearing someone say _Bat Cave_ as if it was a part of normal every day conversation gave Tim pause.

“It makes sense once you actually see it.” Jason said.

“Oh god.” Tim’s jaw dropped, “It’s an actual cave, isn’t it?”

Jason tipped his head back and laughed, his throat bobbing, “You’re such an asshole. Bruce would probably love you.”

The soft, almost sadly amused way Jason said it caught Tim off guard, “You think?”

“Yeah.” Jason smirked, shaking his head, “He’d probably already be working up suit schematics for you in his head.”

“Me?” Tim reeled back, “In a suit? Like, a _suit_ suit?”

“Yep.” Jason picked up his empty plate, then Tim’s, and walked over to the sink, “You’re smart, you’re capable, and you’re a kid with black hair, blue eyes, and a tragic backstory. You’re basically catnip for him.”

Tim should be offended by part of that, or at least shocked that Jason bright up his parents so cavalierly, but he wasn’t. He knew of Dick Grayson’s history, Tim’s life hadn’t been perfect, so if Jason thought that meant it would make Bruce sympathetic to him, Jason was admitting to something happening in his life too.

Tim realized how little he actually knew about Jason. It was weird to think that he knew Jason’s biggest secret, but he didn’t know what Jason’s favorite movie was. He knew that Jason disappeared for almost two years, only coming back after Bruce died, but he didn’t know why. Jason Todd was many things, and one of those things was a mystery.

Tim never met a mystery he didn’t want to solve.

“I’d be a terrible superhero.” Tim scrunched his nose, “God, what would I even be? Robin?”

“Pretty sure Damian would decapitate you before you could steal his tunic.” Jason’s eyes glittered with amusement, “You could always be my sidekick.”

“Bold of you to assume I’d want to hitch my superhero wagon to you.” Tim chewed on his bottom lip in concentration, “Batgirl looked nice, maybe I’d want to be her sidekick.”

“Hey, c’mon! We’d make a kick ass team, just imagine it!” Jason slowly stretched his hands apart in front of him, as if he was revealing a sign, “The Red Hood and Lil’ Red, kickin’ ass and takin’ names.”

“But, Grandmother, what big ego you have.” Tim deadpanned.

“OK, I admit the name needs a little work.” Jason tipped his head to the side, “You could be my Red Robin, that has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

It wasn’t the worst thing Tim had ever heard, but it was probably still too close to infringing on Damian’s non-existent Robin copyright. Actually, it wouldn’t surprise Tim if Damian did have a copyright on Robin.

“The point is moot because I don’t see myself throwing on a cape and a mask anytime soon.” Tim said, “I’ll stick to what I’ve been doing.”

“Sticking your head straight into trouble?” Jason smirked, “You might wanna rethink the whole mask thing then.”

Tim threw a piece of bacon at him.

Jason swiftly dodged it, catching the bacon before it hit the ground and stuffing it into his mouth. He washed his hands off, cracked his neck, and then reached back to rub at the shoulder that Tim had stitched up the night before. Tim stood and walked over to him, sliding in behind Jason as he worked on washing dishes.

“How’s your shoulder?” Tim asked.

“Fine, I guess.” Jason shrugged.

“Mind if I take a look at it?” Tim said hesitantly, “Just to make sure.”

“Knock yourself out.” Jason squeezed a bit of soap onto a sponge and began scrubbing at the cast iron pan.

Tim lightly pulled back the bit of Jason’s shirt that covered his shoulder. The cutoff shirt was loose around his neck, probably a size too big, so it slipped back easily. Tim peeled the bandage back and lightly prodded the area around the wound. It wasn’t hot to the touch, and it wasn’t firm, so Tim and his absolute lack of a medical degree would say it wasn’t infected. Tim pressed the bandage back in place, but his fingers lingered afterwards.

He hadn’t really been able to see last night, he was more focused on paying attention to the one that was actively bleeding, but there were scars all over Jason. Small ones, big ones, smooth ones, jagged ones. There was what looked like a long knife wound just below the base of his neck, and it looked like there were claw marks on his arm. Before Tim realized what he was doing, his finger was trailing over one of the smaller ones on Jason’s biceps.

Goosebumps were left in the wake of Tim’s finger, and Jason’s body shuddered. Tim wasn’t sure if it was a voluntary or involuntary reaction. Tim’s finger found another scar, something that looked like a thin burn that ran across the width of his deltoid. He was fairly sure he was losing his mind, but Jason didn’t stop him when Tim touched it.

Tim had gotten even closer, so close that he could feel Jason’s body heat. His breath was hitting the back of Jason’s neck, warm when it blew back in his face. There was a freckle in the center of Jason’s neck, and it would be so easy for Tim to lean down and press his lips against it.

Kissing Jason was something Tim had only recently began to think of. He’d kissed a few girls, and even a few boys, but none of them really stood out the way Jason did. Maybe it was becoming something more because he knew that Jason was the Red Hood, that he knew Jason had been orbiting him for weeks, trying to be close to him.

Jason liked him as more than a friend, as more than a potential costumed sidekick. Jason liked him as a person. Tim couldn’t think of many people who liked him as a person, and he wasn’t even sure if he himself did all the time either.

“I remember all of them.” Jason said, his voice rough, “The scars.”

Tim swallowed thickly, “Really?”

Jason didn’t answer, his left hand crossed over and grabbed Tim’s wrist, pulling it around to the front of his body. Tim couldn’t see, but he felt when Jason lifted the front of his shirt, and a few moments later, pressed Tim’s cold fingers against a jagged scar on his side.

“I got this before Robin.” Jason said softly, “After my mom died, I was out on the streets, had to a warm place to sleep wherever I could during winter, so I tried to climb this shitty wire fence that was around a condemned building in The Narrows. I slipped when I got to the top, caught myself on nasty piece of metal that was sticking out on the way down, it damn near ripped me open.”

Tim’s fingers splayed against the scar, it was about the size of his hand, “Jason…”

“I thought I was gonna die on a dirty fucking sidewalk in the middle of winter.” Jason’s voice cracked a bit, “I just laid there, eleven years old and ready to die, and passed out.”

“What happened?” Tim asked softly.

“Fuck if I know.” Jason’s laugh didn’t have any humor in it, “I woke up in a free clinic all cleaned up. I stole a big ass bottle of antibiotics, kept enough for myself just in case, and then sold the rest to other people on the street. I ended up making enough to get a room in a fucked up shitty motel for a week.”

“They rented a room to an eleven-year-old?” Tim asked, stunned.

“Like I said, it was a fucked up shitty motel.” There was an edge to Jason’s voice that made Tim not want to push it.

“How old were you when you became Robin?” Tim asked.

“Twelve the first time I put the suit on and went out,” Jason sounded like he was smiling, “but I moved in with Bruce when I was eleven, a few weeks after the motel.”

Jason still hadn’t let go of Tim’s wrist, he pulled Tim’s hand out from under his shirt, and then pressed his fingers against a small scar on his collarbone. It was barely there, maybe a half an inch long and barely raised, Tim wouldn’t have felt it if he wasn’t being directed to.

“That’s my first scar I got from being Robin.” Jason laughed under his breath, “Some idiot nicked me with a swiss army knife when I tried to stop him from stealing this kids wallet.”

“Do they bother you?” Tim asked softly, “Mine do sometimes. Some days they’re fine, and some days I can’t even look at them because of what they remind me of.”

Jason didn’t answer immediately, he lingered for a moment, and then turned to face Tim. Tim’s hand stayed on the Jason’s collarbone as Jason looked down at him. He raised his hand, hovering it in front of Tim’s chest.

“Can I?” Jason asked.

Tim’s breath caught in his throat. Things seemed more intense now that they were looking directly at each other, like the artificial barrier they’d built up had been knocked down by a wrecking ball. Tim realized he could stop it all right now, he could tell Jason no, could back away and pretend like none of it ever happened, let it be awkward for a few minutes before they got back to business.

Tim could, but, “Yes.”

Jason didn’t pull down the collar of Tim’s shirt like he’d expected him too. Instead, Jason’s hand went lower, sliding under the bottom of Tim’s shirt and skimming up his body. He felt Jason’s blunt fingernails lightly scrape against his skin until Jason reached the cluster of scars on his chest, he flattened his palm on top of it, curling his fingers slightly so the tips of his fingers were pressed into Tim’s flesh.

He was sure Jason could feel, hell, probably _hear_ , his heartbeat.

“Most of them don’t bother me.” Jason said, “I know the risks of what I do, I signed up for it. Bruce once called it a hide of a life of war.”

“Most of them?” Tim repeated.

Jason flinched, the movement was strong enough to make Tim’s hand pull away. Jason caught it with his free hand though, he guided Tim’s hand downwards moving it under his shirt and to the side opposite of the first scar he’d showed him. Tim’s hand ran along Jason's side, his fingers dipping into two small craters in Jason’s skin. They weren’t deep, just enough of a difference in the feel of Jason’s skin for Tim to realize that something was missing.

“I know what I sighed up for.” Jason repeated, “But there are still some things I didn’t expect.”

“Jay-”

Jason shook his head, cutting Tim off, “Please don’t ask about it. I can’t let it…not right now.”

Jason's voice was just shy of desperate. It almost seemed like telling Tim this was causing him pain, and that he was powering through it. Whatever happened must have been bad enough for it to deeply scar Jason in more ways than one.

“I won’t.” Tim nodded.

They stood in the middle of the kitchen after that, both their hands on the others’ skin, neither of them moving. Tim could feel every breath Jason took, and Jason could feel ever beat of Tim’s heart. Tim didn’t exactly know where to go from this, it was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. They were both lingering just before the point of no return, and it felt like they were both waiting for the other one to make the first step.

Tim didn’t know how much longer he could wait.

Tim had never been much good at waiting anyway.

Tim pushed himself up on his toes, moving slow enough so he could see Jason’s eyes widen in realization, slow enough to Jason could stop him if he wanted to, slow enough so he could change his mind at the last second if he wanted to.

Jason didn’t stop him.

Tim didn’t change his mind.

Jason’s mouth parted slightly, a small, breathless gasp escaping when Tim kissed him. Tim didn’t hurry the kiss, didn’t sweep his tongue into Jason’s mouth, just pressed firmly enough so Jason knew the kiss was real. His hand was still on Jason’s side, and he felt the goosebumps on Jason’s skin. Jason’s fingers curled against Tim’s chest, blunt nails digging into Tim’s skin on just the good side of painful.

Jason pressed back after a second, meeting Tim’s kiss with his own. It was soft, much softer than someone would expect from a person who looked like Jason Todd. It was the softest kiss that Tim had ever experienced, almost reverent in a way that made Tim feel like he was getting something far better than he deserved.

Jason pulled his hand out from under Tim’s shirt, his arms snaking around Tim’s back to pull him closer. Tim didn’t mind being pressed against Jason, he pulled his own hand out and ran it up Jason’s back, his fingers carding through the hair on the nape of his neck.

The kiss broke, and Tim rested his forehead on Jason’s chest. He could feel Jason’s chin on top of his head, and Jason’s chest was rising with nervous energy.

“Holy shit.” Jason whispered, “Holy shit.”

“Good holy shit?” Tim asked hesitantly, “Or bad holy shit.”

“Good.” Jason answered immediately, “God damn. So fucking good. Holy shit.”

Tim let out a laugh, he felt it move from himself and into Jason. They both stood there until Tim took a step back so he could look Jason in the eyes, Jason rested both hands on Tim’s shoulders and smiled.

“Christ, Tim.” Jason whispered, “You’re beautiful.”

Tim felt himself blush, “Shut up.”

“Nope.” Jason smiled, “Been wanting to do that for weeks.”

“What stopped you?” Tim asked.

He’d started to wonder if Jason’s flirting was a figment of his imagination.

“Everything.” Jason said, “I was scared. I didn’t want to lie to you. I didn’t want you to get hurt because of me. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

The way Jason was looking at him made Tim think that Jason would rather cut off his own hand than hurt him.

“Are you still scared?” Tim asked.

Jason closed his eyes for a few seconds, then opened them, nodding, “Fucking terrified.”

Tim leaned in and kissed him again.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the kiss was originally planned for a little bit later in the story, but i just kept writing and it seemed like it fit more so KISS 
> 
> [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TJgiTCkoJFM) is the song jason was dancing to in the kitchen, cuz its one of my favorite songs of all time 
> 
> i look forward to the comments :p


	16. Incoming

 

 

 

 

16

Incoming 

 

Jason wasn’t entirely sure his brain was working.

Jason wasn’t entirely sure he wasn’t hallucinating.

Jason wasn’t entirely sure what was happening.

Jason was sure that Tim was kissing him, and he was going to make the most of it.

Jason bent his knees, sliding his hands down Tim’s back as he went. He splayed his palms across the backs of Tim’s thighs, and then grabbed tight as he lifted him off the ground. Tim let out a surprised yelp, which sounded a lot breathier than Jason expected it to. Jason held him in the air for a moment, until Tim wrapped his legs around Jason’s waist and squeezed slightly to hold on. His grip on Tim’s thighs loosened, but his hands stayed where they were. He pulled his mouth away from Tim’s to catch his breath, and Tim’s red lips chased after his.

He couldn’t deny another kiss, Jason met Tim half way and swallowed the surprised gasp as it slipped from Tim’s mouth. His tongue darted into Tim’s, tangling together as they both tried to press closer to each other. Jason had spent too much time thinking about this moment, but he’d never thought it would actually happen. It was surreal, they’d both been so open and vulnerable with each other, and now Jason was holding Tim up by his thighs and sticking his tongue in Tim’s mouth.

“Jason,” Tim’s voice was a barely there breath of a whisper, “oh my god.”

“Amazing.” Jason mumbled against Tim’s lips, “Fuckin’ amazing, Tim. Been wanting to do this forever.”

Tim broke away from this kiss for a moment, tipping his head backwards as he gasped for air. Jason looked at the tender skin of Tim’s neck and couldn’t help taking the opening he was being presented with. He ducked forward, running his tongue along a pale stripe of skin over Tim’s Adam’s apple. Tim’s entire body shuddered, and Jason almost lost his grip. He stumbled forward a few feet, lifting Tim a few more inches until he could set him on the kitchen counter.

“OK?” Jason asked, his mouth hovering over Tim’s neck.

“More than OK.” Tim’s fingers gripped the edge of the counter.

Jason scraped his teeth against the hollow of Tim’s throat, biting down lightly and drawing a moan from somewhere deep inside of Tim. Tim’s back arched, and Jason bit down even harder. Tim’s hands left the counter, dragging their way up Jason’s back until they tangled into his hair. The feeling of Tim’s nails against his scalp was amazing, and Jason let out a moan of his own when Tim twisted a few locks between his fingers and pulled on them.

“Little rough there, Timmy?” Jason laughed against Tim’s skin.

“You literally just bit m-” Tim was cut by his own gasp as Jason bit him again.

“Didn’t say I didn’t like it.” Jason smirked, pressing his smile into Tim’s neck.

Jason abandoned Tim’s neck and returned to his lips, surging forward and pressing Tim’s head back until it rested against the cabinet behind him. Their tongues danced together, and Jason tasted every moan as Tim pulled on his hair.

They were both panting, almost completely out of breath, by the time they pulled away. Tim’s eyes were blown, his mouth red, and his neck dotted with small bruises that would fade too soon for Jason’s liking. His blue eyes were still burning with fire, and Jason wanted to dive back into them.

“Wow.” Tim said, running a hand through his hair, “That was not how I expected this morning to go.”

“You’re telling me.” Jason took a deep breath and stepped out of Tim’s space to give them both some room to breathe, “You OK?”

It was probably a dumb question, but part of Jason couldn’t help but wonder if this was a one-time deal. He couldn’t help but wonder if what just happen was born from Tim’s revelation of his identity, if Tim was kissing him because he was the Red Hood.

“Yeah.” Tim answered immediately, smiling softly, “You?”

“Fuck yes.” Jason laughed, “More OK than I’ve been in a long time.”

They lapsed into a short silence after that. It didn’t feel awkward, but it was obvious that they were both taking a moment to think about what had just happened. Tim didn’t run away immediately, so most of Jason’s worries were more of his own insecurities rather than anything to do with Tim specifically.

After another few seconds, Tim asked, “How long is forever?”

“What?” Jason furrowed his brow, “Is that the name of a Bond movie or something?”

“Tragic.” Tim kindly rolled his eyes, as kindly as someone could roll their eyes, “You said you’ve been wanting to do this forever, so I’m just curious how long _forever_ actually is.”

Jason felt his cheeks redden, “Did I say that? I don’t remember saying that.”

Jason remembered saying that.

Tim laughed, “It was right after you picked me up and sat me on the counter, which was incredibly hot in case you were wondering, and right before you started to bite me.”

“Ah.” Jason scuffed his heel against the tile floor, “I can’t be held accountable for things I say in the heat of the moment.”

“ _The heat of the moment_.” Tim rolled his eyes again.

Jason sighed, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly as he tried to avoid Tim’s piercing eyes, “Fine. It was the first day back at school.”

Tim’s eyes went wide, “The first day?”

“Yes, Tim.” Jason stared at him, “The first day.”

“The first day where I almost fell and busted my face open?” Tim’s eyes hadn’t returned to their normal size.

Jason pursed his lips, “It was endearing.”

“Endearing?” The corner of Tim’s lip turned up into a slight smile.

“Yes, asshole. Endearing.” Jason glared at him, “Some dumb ass I’ve never seen before waltzes into school next to Brown, and then proceeds to fall on his face. If you weren’t as cute as you were, I would let you break your stupid nose on the stairs. Seeing you kick ass like you did also didn’t hurt.”

Tim hopped down from the counter, he walked over to Jason slowly, reaching out with a finger and poking him in the stomach. Jason tried to bat him away, but Tim’s hand moved too quickly and darted around to his side, needling him in his soft flank. Tim pushed himself up on his toes and lightly kissed Jason on the lips.  

“What about you, huh?” Jason asked, “I was starting to think you were either oblivious or you just didn’t care. I haven’t exactly been subtle.”

“Probably a little oblivious.” Tim admitted, “I couldn’t tell if _Jason_ was flirting with me, or just being an asshole. Once I figured out the Red Hood thing, it started to make more sense.”

“What do you mean?” Jason asked.

“I couldn’t figure out why the Red Hood took so much interest in me, it made a little more sense after you told me everything about my dad, but when I saw you after that…” Tim trailed off, “You followed me to make sure I’d get home safely the first night we met, Jason. You don’t do that for someone unless you care about them.”

Jason blushed, “You’re a disaster, I had to make sure no one else stopped to try and kill you.”

“As you’ve told me repeatedly.” Tim said, moving away from Jason, “There’s something I have to tell you though.”

Jason felt dread settle onto his shoulders. He knew it was too good to be true, Tim’s body langue changed almost instantly, he drew in on himself and started messing with his hair. Jason took a deep breath and prepared himself for Tim to tell him he was secretly one of Black Mask’s henchmen and this was an elaborate long con.

“What?” Jason asked, even though he didn’t want to.

“I wanted to wait to do what we just did until after I told you this, but I couldn’t stop myself.” Tim sighed, “I remember what happened to me in the teachers lounge.”

Shit.

That wasn’t what Jason expected.

“Are you OK?” Jason asked immediately, “You weren’t hurt, were you?”

Tim shook his head, “Not physically, at least.”

“What happened?” Jason took a step closer to Tim, but still far enough away to give him his own bubble of space.

Jason knew from firsthand experience that there were more ways that someone could be hurt than just physically. He’d experienced every version of hurt possible at the hands of the Joker, and the thought of anything happening to Tim made him want to go throw on his helmet and track down whoever it was who hurt him.

“He did something to my head.” Tim said, rubbing the bridge of his nose, “Hypnotized me, maybe? Whatever it was, it wasn’t some county faire reject type thing, it was real. He blocked out most of my memory, but I think a combination of me being a stubborn asshole and being back in the room itself helped me fight through it.”

“OK.” Jason said slowly, “What do you remember?”

“I remembered his name first. He said it was Simon Hurt, and he called himself Doctor Hurt.” Tim rolled his eyes, it seemed like he shared Jason’s annoyance for the villainous flair for dramatics, “He got into my head, played with my insecurities and brought up my parents, but I don’t think he was really after me.”

“Why?” Jason asked.

Tim looked at him directly in the eyes, “Because he knows who you are, he knows who all of you are.”

Jason felt the lump in his throat form, “What? How?”

“I don’t know.” Tim shook his head, “None of it made sense at the time, but now that I know you’re the Red Hood it does. He tried to talk about my relationship with you, said I knew you better than I thought I did, he told me you’d been inside my apartment.”

“But I was…” Jason trailed off, “I was here as the Red Hood.”

Tim nodded, “Which means he knows who you are, and he’s been watching you for a long time.”

“Fuck.” Jason hissed, “How the fuck is that possible? I’ve only been the Red Hood for a few weeks, there’s no fucking way someone could know!”

“Unless he knew who you were before the Red Hood.” Tim said softly, “Jason, I think this guy knows who all of you are. He was surprised that I didn’t know the _family secret_.”

“Shit.” Jason’s hand curled into a fist, “Shit, shit, shit! I need to tell Babs right the fuck now. And Dick. And shit, fucking everyone needs to know.”

“Jason, slow down.” Tim reached out and gently placed his hand on Jason’s forearm, “There’s something else…I think he played a part in what happened to Bruce.”

Jason’s entire world tilted sideways. It felt like someone had just kicked his feet out from under him, and then pushed him down a hill. Everything was flying by, spinning sideways in a flurry of colors and sound. Nothing seemed real, and everything seemed too much. Bruce being involved in any of this was the last thing he expected, and he hadn’t been prepared enough to deal with the fact that everything was connected.

“What did he say?” Jason managed to grit out between clenched teeth, “Tell me exactly what he said, Tim.”

“Let’s go sit down.” Tim said, taking Jason’s hand in his.

Jason didn’t argue, he let Tim lead him from the kitchen, around the bar countertop, and into the living room. Jason gently sat down on the couch, and Tim sat across from him on the coffee table. Tim’s hand was still wrapped around Jason’s, and Jason used it as something to ground himself.

“I was trying to resist whatever he was doing to me,” Tim began, “and he got angry. He started doing the whole preachy _I’m the greatest_ thing, and he mentioned the last person who was able to resist him didn’t survive.”

“What did he say?” Jason asked.

Tim sighed, squeezing Jason’s hand tighter, “He said he blew up the last person who fought against him.”

The words his Jason like a sucker punch to the jaw. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and pushed everything down into the black box within his chest. The area where he stored things he didn’t want to, or couldn’t, deal with. It was already overflowing, but he couldn’t let any lingering things with Bruce get to him right now. He couldn’t stop to think about how terrible the last few years of their relationship was, couldn’t think about all the things he didn’t say to Bruce that he wished he could.

He had to be what Bruce trained him to be. He had to be a thinker, he had to be a fighter, and he had to put everything else to the side, so he could help find the asshole who killed Bruce and take everything out on him.

Jason opened his eyes, “Can you come with me?”

Tim looked surprised, “Uh, yeah. Sure, yeah, anywhere.”

“Good.” Jason nodded, “Go get changed, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

 

X

 

Tim climbed off the back of Jason’s motorcycle, eyeing him suspiciously as he walked it into a back alley. It was a different motorcycle than the one he’d given Tim a ride on before, it was an eye-catching red color instead of a sleek black finish. It was designed to be as ostentatious as possible, and it came complete with a touch screen between the handle bars, which meant it probably belonged to the Red Hood.

Jason had gotten two normal, non-crime fighting helmets somewhere during his early morning outing, and Tim held his under his arm as he followed Jason deeper into the alley. They were right next to the Gotham Clocktower, and Tim had no idea where they were going. The alley eventually led to a dead end in the form of a brick wall, Jason looked over his shoulder, his neck craning around so he could see behind Tim. He turned back to the wall, apparently satisfied with what he did or didn’t see, and pressed his hand against the wall. His fingers splayed out across the brick, and Tim watched as the light from something he assumed was a bio-scanner appeared under Jason’s hand.

The light started out red, but began to strobe green after a few seconds. Jason removed his hand from the wall, stepped back a few feet, and then a section of the wall pulled back slightly. It was completely silent as a doorway sized piece of the wall moved backwards a few inches, and then slid to the side to disappear entirely, revealing the metal interior of an elevator.

“C’mon.” Jason said, rolling the bike forward and inside the elevator.

Tim followed after him, and he was rather proud of his ability to adapt to various situations. A secret elevator hidden in a brick wall didn’t even phase him, he’d honestly thought it would be something grander.

Then again, there was a place somewhere in Gotham that was literally called the Bat Cave.

The door to the elevator silently slid closed after Tim stepped inside. He settled himself to Jason’s left-hand side, leaving the bike on Jason’s right.

“Red Hood identified.” A stilted, robotic female voice said, “Unknown passenger present.”

The lighting in the elevator shifted from a cool blue fluorescent, to a dark, red warning. A bit of tension filled Tim’s shoulders, he wouldn’t have been surprised if lasers popped out of the walls or something.

“Red Hood initiating override protocol two-five-seven-three.” Jason said.

“Vocal identification confirmed. Override protocol two-five-seven-three accepted.” The robot woman said, and the lights shifted from dark red back to cool blue, “Please state your destination.”

“Top floor.” Jason said, and the light shifted from blue to green as the elevator put itself into motion.

There was nothing in the elevator indicating how high they were going, but it seemed to be moving pretty rapidly. The elevator slowed to a stop after a few seconds, and Tim waited for seamless doors to open again.

“Hold onto something.” Jason said unexpectedly.

“Huh?” Tim asked, confused.

A moment later, the elevator rumbled and shifted to the left, causing Tim to stumble into Jason as the elevator moved sideways instead of going upwards. Jason’s arm wrapped around Tim’s waist as the elevator stopped again, rumbled, and then began to move upwards again.

“What just happened?” Tim asked, a slight laugh escaping his mouth.

“Part of the elevator is built into the wall in the alley, but the actual destination is the clocktower. The jolt was the elevator switching tracks and moving out of the wall and into the clocktower itself.” Jason said, pointing upwards.

“Right.” Tim nodded, “I should have expected the clocktower was where we were going.”

Jason smirked, “It’s bad ass, you’re gonna love it. Your nerdy dork heart is gonna explode.”

“Will it now?” Tim asked.

Jason nodded, “Pretty sure it will.”

Tim wasn’t entirely sure what Jason meant by that, but he wouldn’t have to wait much longer to find out. The elevator stopped moving, and the silver door slid to the side. Jason stepped out, turning halfway to face Tim.

“You coming?” Jason asked.

“Yeah.” Tim said, looking sideways at the bike, “What about that?”

Jason leaned his head back into the elevator, “Take the bike to the garage.”

The robot voice answered, “Vehicle deposit confirmed.”

“Of course there’s a garage.” Tim said, shaking his head with a laugh.

“It’s not a big one, just enough for a few bikes.” Jason said, shrugging, “Follow me.”

The elevator closed, and Tim followed Jason. It only took a few feet for Tim to realize what Jason was taking about when he said that Tim would love this place. He stopped in his tracks as he looked at the expansive room in front of him. Light shone in through the enormous glass clock face on the wall, illuminating a large open space so filled with tech that Tim thought it was something he could only have dreamed of.

Tim didn’t know which part of the room to look at first.

A section of the far wall was almost completely filled with computer monitors, lines of code and an insane amount of other information filling them from what Tim could tell at a distance. It was separated off from the rest of the room by a raised platform, a sloping ramp the only way to access the area filled with computers.

The center of the room held a 3D rendered map of Gotham. Tim looked around for projection machines, his eyes raking over every inch of the room, but he couldn’t find anything projecting from the ceilings. He took a few steps forward, stopping just outside of the hologram, and ran his hand through it. The buildings flickered and bent around his hand as it passed through them, and a particular part of the map zoomed in after his hand lingered over the spot for a few seconds. The floor directly under the map was a distinct color than the rest, a clear, almost white glassy texture compared to the grey stone of the rest of the room. Tim leaned in, his eyes widening when they discovered the thousands of tiny dots with light reflecting out of them.

The 3D map was being projected from under the floor.

To the left of the map was a row of clear lockers. A collection of suits filled them, some Tim had seen before, and some he hadn’t. The last locker on the row held an identical copy of the Red Hood outfit that Tim knew was laying on the floor in the corner of his living room right now. A long silver table stretched out in front of the lockers, various pieces of tech and weaponry scattered across it.

Tim turned around to find Jason sitting on top of the metal railing of the raised part of the room, grinning with his feet hooked under the center bar while his arms were crossed over his chest.

“I told you so.” Jason said.

Jason looked relaxed, far more relaxed than Tim expected him to be after dropping the whole bombshell about Bruce. Tim partly expected him to storm out of the apartment, but Jason went though his stages of anger pretty fast. Tim saw the moment he pushed it away, compartmentalized it, and there was almost no trace of it now.

It might not be healthy, but Tim wasn’t the best person to talk about healthy coping techniques.

“What is this place?” Tim asked.

“It’s the information hub of Gotham.” A voice that didn’t belong to Jason said, “The entire world, actually, if I’m not being modest.”

The voice sounded familiar, but not enough for Tim to place it immediately. It was soft, definitely one that belonged to a woman. Jason’s head was angled to the right, so Tim followed his line of sight. There was a woman sitting at the top of the ramp that led to the upper part of the room, her red hair was piled on top of her head in a messy bun, and she looked at Tim from behind a pair of black glasses. It took a moment for Tim to realize the chair she was sitting in was a wheel chair, but it all clicked when he did.

“Miss Gordon?” Tim blinked, astonished.

“Hello, Tim.” Miss Gordon smiled, “Please, call me Barbara. There’s no need to be so formal now that you’re in on the secret.”

The last line was said with a bit of a side-eye in Jason’s direction.

Jason sputtered, holding up both his hands, “Don’t look at me like that, he figured it out on his own!”

Barbara arched an eyebrow, like she didn’t exactly believe Jason. Tim felt compelled to defend him.

“It’s true.” Tim said, “I did.”

Barbara looked back at him, smiling, “I know, you’re a smart kid. I had a feeling you would figure it out once Jason started spending more time around you. I love him to death, but there’s a reason he’s never sent on any undercover missions.”

Her dry tone started a laugh out of Tim, “True. He wasn’t exactly subtle.”

“Hey!” Jason glared at Barbara, hooping down from the second level and walking towards Tim, “Let’s go, I underestimated how dangerous it would be for you two to be in the same room.”

Tim rolled his eyes, “Stop being a drama queen, Jason.”

Barbara tipped her head back and laughed, “I like you.”

“I’m doomed.” Jason groaned.

Tim stepped around him, moving towards the ramp that led up to the second level of the room. Barbara moved her chair backwards, swiveling around so she was facing the bank of monitors. Tim stopped next to her, taking in the second level of the room in awe. It was filled with computers, monitors mounted on the wall and swinging arms. There were dozens of keyboards, all sectioned off in various parts of the sleek silver desk below the monitors.

What looked like a training area sat to the right of the upper level, across the room from the computer terminals. A large blue mat stretched out across the floor, various cases of weapons lined the wall, filled with bo staves, swords, knives, and a lot more that Tim didn’t even recognize. Pieces of exercise equipment sat around the training area, including a salmon ladder, which Barbara was a master at if her biceps were anything to go by.

A ladder led up to a third level where Tim could see a small loft area.

“This is amazing.” Tim said to Barbara, “Is this all yours?”

Barbara nodded, “Yes. In addition to being the best damn librarian that Gotham has ever seen, I’m also known as Oracle. The Clocktower is the hub of my operation.”

“Your operation?” Tim asked, “This isn’t connected to Batman?”

Barbara smiled, “I’ll always assist Batman and the rest of the family, but I don’t work with them exclusively. I have my own team, and I assist dozens of others when they need a heavy hitter in the tech world. My days on the street might have ended a long time ago, but I couldn’t leave the world behind.”

“Babs was the OG Batgirl.” Jason said, grinning.

“Holy shit.” Tim said.

“That was a long time ago.” Barbara waved Jason away, “I’ve been Oracle for longer than I was Batgirl at this point.”

“And she’s scary as shit as both.” Jason said.

“Damn right I am.” Barbara said, rolling over to one of the computers and typing in a quick string of code.

Tim waked up behind her, marveling at everything in front of him. This was the spare bedroom of his apartment on steroids. It looked like there was enough power in front of him to hack the fucking Pentagon in a few seconds.

“This must take massive computing power.” Tim said, failing to keep the wonder out of his voice.

Barbara nodded, “The entire floor below us is filled with enough tower servers to give an MIT student wet dreams. It’s also why the floor feels so damn cold if you walk across it barefoot.”

“Jesus, it must feel like Antarctica.” Tim said, thinking of how much it must take to keep all the servers cool.

“A bitch of an electric bill too.”

Tim watched for a few minutes as Barbara worked. She was completely engrossed in at least three separate things, her eyes darting between different screens faster than he could keep track of her. There were so many questions he wanted to ask.

“Do you need an intern?” Tim asked, half-seriously, “This is amazing.”

Barbara looked up at him, smiling, “I am a little impressed that you managed to hack into my computer at work. It isn’t nearly as secured as anything here, but it’s nothing to laugh at.”

“I didn’t really hack into it, it was more of hacking around it.” Tim felt himself blush, “I was just trying to get to one specific part.”

“Still, it was an interesting little code you cooked up.” Barbara was managing a conversation with him while simultaneously typing something out in a transmission.

Something dawned on Tim a few seconds later, “You were the one who changed the GCPD security.”

“I did.” Barbra laughed, “I couldn’t take any chances after you started looking into things. No offence, but I didn’t know much about you then, so I threw up a hell of a security system that I knew you couldn’t get through.”

“Fair enough.” Tim said, “What do you know about me now?”

Barbara smiled, still facing the computers, “I’ve done enough digging into you that I’m pretty certain I know a lot more than you think I do. I know you’re smart and resourceful. I know you pick up on little things that some people miss. I know that Jason trusts you, which means a lot because trust isn’t something that Jason gives out easily. I know that Jason’s trust is a delicate thing that shouldn’t be taken for granted.”

Tim was fairly certain he’d just gotten a slightly modified version of the shovel talk.

“I trust Jason too.” Tim said, “I wouldn’t have followed him into a secret elevator if I didn’t.”

“Good.” Barbara said, pushing back from the computer and making a show of dusting off her hands, “Now that the hard part is over, Jason says you remembered what happened to you at the school?”

Tim nodded, looking over at Jason, “How much did you tell her?”

“Only that you remember and there might be a connection to Bruce.” Jason said.

Barbara pulled out a chair for Tim, “Why don’t you sit down and tell me everything you can remember from the very beginning, no detail is too small or insignificant.”

Tim took a deep breath and sat down in the chair across from Barbara, “OK.”

 

X

 

Babs looked about as stunned as Jason felt when he first heard Tim’s story. She listened quietly though the whole thing, only looking away from Tim to make notes on her computer. The version that Tim told her was more fleshed out than the one he’d told Jason, Tim had left out a lot of the bits about what Doctor Hurt said to him, and he hadn’t mentioned any of the creeper parts like the guy cutting his hand open or the mysterious hour glass and metronome. A sting of guilt pulsed in Jason’s chest at the fact that Tim left out key details that obvious bothered him in favor of giving Jason a quick version of the story that would impact _him_ more.

“Wow.” Barbara said, leaning back and pushing her glasses up to her forehead so she could rub her eyes, “That was. Wow.”

“Yeah.” Tim said, “My head hurts just thinking about it.”

“You got any theories, O?” Jason asked, moving his chair so that it was a little closer to Tim.

“I do.” Barbara said, “There’s a high level of skill involved in legitimate hypnosis, and what Tim described sounds exactly like it. The induced hallucinations, the inability to stop yourself from saying things you don’t want to, the rate at which full hypnosis was achieved, it all makes me think we’re dealing with a someone who’s spent a long time learning to master what they do.”

“Well, he sure ain’t the Mad Hatter.” Jason said.

“Exactly.” Barbara nodded, “Doctor Hurt has already shown a significant level of skill when it comes to manipulating the mind, and I wouldn’t completely rule out some type of psionic abilities.”

“You think he’s psychic?” Tim said, staring at her.

“I’m not writing it off.” Barbara said, “Whoever he is, he has to be good to get into Bruce’s head, even with legitimate psychic powers.”

“Bruce’s head was a god damn brick house.” Jason looked at Tim, “He was different from the rest of us. Paranoid, anal, probably a little bit crazy honestly, but he was good. He spent years training with actual psychics, letting them rip his head apart from the inside out just so he could learn how to stop anyone from being able to.”

Barbara sighed, “I know it doesn’t sound like it could happen to Bruce, but I can’t help but think of something that happened earlier this year. It’s bothered me for months, I knew something didn’t feel right, but Bruce wouldn’t listen to me whenever I brought it up.”

“What do you mean?” Jason asked, “What happened?”

Barbara turned back to one of her computers and clicked around on the screen until a folder filled with mission logs popped up. Jason watched over her shoulder, and Tim got up from his chair and stood next to him. Barbara scrolled through the files until she found one that was dated seven months ago.

“Seven months ago, Killer Croc escaped from Arkham.” Babs clicked the file, “He made his way into the sewers, and Batman and Robin went down to track him and take him back before he could hurt anyone. He called me for an assist because the sewers might as well be a modern-day labyrinth, we tracked Croc down to a section of the sewers that ran under the Diamond District.”

“What happened?” Tim asked.

Babs scrolled down through the file, “Batman and Robin engaged Croc, and Croc managed to damage one of the gas lines that ran along through the sewers. Robin didn’t realize what had happened, so when he threw one of his batarangs and it hit the wall, the spark ignited the gas and caused an explosion. The explosion brought down a section of the tunnel they were in, and it separated them.”

“Shit.” Jason said.

That feeling of guilt bubbled up inside him again. Jason couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if he was there, if he’d only fought Bruce harder about letting him go back out in a suit.

“Batman was offline for over an hour.” Barbara said, “His tracker went out, he couldn’t be reached on comms, and by the time Damian cleared through the rubble his body was gone.”

“Where did you find him?” Tim asked.

“Damian tracked the flow of the water for over an hour, and eventually he found Bruce unconscious and floating towards one of the exit pipes that let out into the Sound. Damian transported him back to the cave, and Alfred and I watched over him until he woke up. He didn’t remember anything after the explosion, and whenever I tried to push it, he snapped at me and told me to stop seeing wolves where there are no wolves.”

“That sounds like Bruce.” Jason shook his head, “I don’t get it though, what stood out to you? It sounds like his comm and tracker were just damaged in the explosion.”

Barbara shook her head, “No. I went over the suit and the cowl at least a dozen times, and I couldn’t find any trace of his tracker or the comm link. They weren’t damaged, they were just gone.”

“Like the camera feed at school.” Tim said.

“Exactly.” Barbara nodded, “Bruce insisted that they probably got knocked loose in the explosion, or that they floated away when he was unconscious, but they still would have shown up somewhere if that was the case. It wasn’t like him to not want to look into it more, it was the only time I’d ever seen Bruce _not_ paranoid about something slightly weird.”

“You think that in the hour or so between the explosion and when Damian found Bruce, Doctor Hurt got to him?” Tim asked.

“Knowing what I know now? Yes.” Barbara said, “Even the Croc breakout was strange, it wasn’t his usual affair of eating a guard and using the distraction to break out, it was almost like he just walked out without anyone stopping him. When Croc got back to Arkham he claimed he had no memory of escaping, Bruce just wrote it off as a lie. All these things that have been bothering me for months are starting to make sense, and it all seems like it’s connecting back to this Doctor Hurt.”

“If I’d been here…” Jason started, but Barbara cut him off.

“Do not even go there.”

“But if I’d been here, maybe Bruce wouldn’t have been alone when he got separated from Damian!”

“Maybe.” Barbara said, “Or, maybe you would have been with Bruce and Doctor Hurt would have killed you to get to him. Or, maybe you would have gotten stuck on the other side of the collapse as Damian. Or, maybe you would have been the one that Doctor Hurt got to, and we all would have attended your funeral a few weeks ago instead. There are too many what if’s to think about, and all of them will just drive you crazy.”

“But-” Jason was cut off again, this time by Tim.

Tim put his hand on Jason’s knee, squeezing it softly, “After my mom died, I spent weeks wondering what would have happened if I’d called the police after hearing the glass break instead of going to look myself. I knew that something was wrong when I heard it, but I didn’t do the smart thing and call for help, I went and looked for myself. I was the only other person home, so once they got me, there was no one else to call for help. I still think about it sometimes, I wonder if she’d be alive and my dad wouldn’t be in a facility if I’d just picked up the phone and called for help, but it doesn’t do anything to change the fact that it happened. Barbara is right. I know it’s hard, and if you’re anything like me you like to take on the guilt for everything regardless, but it doesn’t do anything to help.”

Jason cleared his throat and dug his knuckles into his eyes, rubbing them to buy himself some time. Babs and Tim teaming up on him was almost too much of a good thing, their words were too nice, too soft for the way he was feeling. Part of him wished Damian were around to even it out, he’d waste no time telling Jason that he was part of the reason his father was dead.

So, Jason did what Jason did best.

“How are we going to find this asshole?” Jason asked, ignoring the last few minutes of conversation, “I’ve got a thing or two I fucking want to ask him.”

Barbara’s face dropped, but she recovered quickly, she’d probably spent too many years dealing with him to try and fight it right now, “Tim, would you recognize him if you saw him again?”

Tim’s eyes lingered on Jason for a moment, and he didn’t remove his hand, but he eventually turned his head towards Babs, “I think.”

“Good.” Barbara moved her chair away from the desk, spinning and moving towards the ramp that led to the lower area, “Jay, I’ve been working on the recreation from the morning of Bruce’s death.”

“Still?” Jason asked, standing with Tim to follow her, “I thought you finished it the best that you could.”

“In the immediate area, yeah.” Babs said, stopping next to another computer near the map projection, “But I’ve been working on expanding the range of the projection, I’ve gathered enough CCTV and cellphone footage to give us a clear view of a two-mile radius from the explosion site.”

Jason turned to Tim, smirking, “You’re gonna love this.”

“Love what?” Tim asked.

Jason pointed towards the square in the floor where the map was being projected from. A moment later, Babs hit a key on her keyboard and the map projection flickered away, replacing itself with the same 3D rendering that Jason had walked through a few weeks before.

“Holy shit.” Tim whispered.

Babs moved into the center of the projection, and Jason grabbed Tim by the elbow to pull him into it too. Tim looked at everything with wide eyes, not entirely unlike a child, as he stood in the center of the projection between Jason and Barbara.

“Tim, I’m going to move us through the projection, tell me to stop if you see anyone you recognize. Try to look everywhere you can, in the windows, in the alleys, anywhere. It’s possible that Hurt wanted to stick around to watch his work unfold.” Barbara held up the tablet in her hand.

Tim nodded.

Babs tapped the center of the tablet, and then slowly moved her finger across it. As she moved her finger, the projection started to move around them. It passed by them like a VHS tape that was fast-forwarding, quickly, but not too quickly that you couldn’t make out the faces of the people as they flashed by.

Jason had to give it to her, Babs had really outdone herself with this one. He’d seen her recreate some pretty kick ass things, but standing in the middle of the clocktower while a digital construction of Gotham rushed by them was something else. It was interesting how she’d pieced it together, some parts looked more high definition than others depending on the sources the images came from, and a few people were creepily stitched together from a combination of cell phone and security camera footage.

“Stop!” Tim said abruptly.

Barbara lifted her finger off the tablet, “What?”

“There.” Tim pointed upwards towards one of the apartment buildings in front of them, “Can you zoom in on that window?”

“I can bring us up.” Barbara said, tapping on the tablet, “The building across the street had a camera on the roof, I can bounce that footage between the laptop open on the table in apartment directly across from our building and see what we get.”

The digital world crumbled, and then reformed itself a few moments later. The image was pixelated, and Babs worked on her tablet to clear it up. It was like they were floating right outside of the window, and the image of the guy on the other side of the glass was getting less fuzzy by the second.

The building he was in would have had a perfection view of the explosion.

“That’s him.” Tim said as the image cleared, “That’s Doctor Hurt.”

He was an average guy with dark hair. He didn’t look remarkable or threatening, which is probably exactly what he wanted.

“You sure?” Jason asked.

Tim nodded, “I remember his eyes.”

The projection slowly faded until it was just a rendering of Hurt’s face. The image spun in a circle as they stepped out of the projection area. Jason leaned in, examining him closely so he’d know exactly whose ass to kick when he saw it.

“Now that we have a face, I can run him through facial recognition. We’ll see what pops up, if his name really is Simon Hurt, and if he has any priors.” Babs paused for a second, “I can also task all cameras in the city to scan for his face, so I’ll be alerted if he does make an appearance.”

Tim stared at her, “I’m terrified of you, and I think I want you to be my new best friend.”

Barbara laughed, “We’ll see how much you like me once I’m done testing just how good of a hacker you are.”

The spark in Babs’ eye told Jason that she was itching to get her claws into him as much as he thought Bruce would have been. It was hilarious to think of the battle she and Bruce would be having over Tim if he was still around, Jason could only imagine the kinds of things Bruce would hand out just to get Tim to work with him full time over Barbara.

Jason was feeling a bit jealous of Babs himself, to be honest.

“I’ve already used this software to try and find out Batman imposter that showed up after the explosion, but I haven’t been able to pick him up on any cameras other than the ones I had before.” Barbara chewed on the bottom of her lip, “I also couldn’t locate him on any cameras around the school from the other night, he just shows up on the scene and then disappears.”

“Please tell me we’re not getting into magic shit.” Jason shuddered, “I fucking hate magic.”

“Magic? Tim stared at him, “Seriously?”

Barbara nodded, “Yep, magic is real. Enjoy that brain explosion.”

“Magic is the fucking worst.” Jason growled, “Fuck magic.”

Barbara ginned and looked at Tim, “Jason and magic have a…complicated relationship.”

“There’s a story here,” Tim smirked, “and I want to hear it.”

“No.” Jason shook his head, “You really don’t.”

“Aw,” Barbra cooed, “you don’t want to tell Tim about the glorious 72 hours you spent with a tail and cat ears?”

“What?” Tim gasped.

“I hate you so much, O.” Jason sighed, “It wasn’t my fault, OK? I was a kid, how the fuck was I supposed to know magic was real? Or that creepy Klarion mother fucker was serious when he threatened to turn me into a cat for making fun of him because he doesn’t have any friends except for his weird cat monster?”

“Oh my god.” Tim burst into a fit of laugher, “ _Please_ tell me there are pictures.”

“I have an entire encrypted hard drive full of them.”

Before Jason could make his displeasure _very_ known, the elevator opened. He hadn’t even heard the warning signal that someone was coming up, and by the look on Babs’ face, she hadn’t either. Jason looked up just in time to see Dick, Damian, and Stephanie step out and into the clocktower.

He glanced at Tim, watched his eyes go wide as he registered Stephanie’s presence, and then turned back to the group at the elevator. It took Dick a moment to figure out that Tim was in the clocktower, but the look on his face was priceless when he did.”

“Babs?” Dick asked.

“Dick?” Babs asked.

“Tim?” Stephanie gasped.

“Stephanie?” Tim gasped.

“Drake!” Damian shouted.

“Damian?” Tim cringed.

“Tim?” Dick’s eyes went wide.

“Jason?” Tim whispered.

Jason sighed, “Well, this is going to be interesting.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it took so long! certain parts of this chapter melted my brain lol hope you enjoy, i look forward to the comments.
> 
> this chapter officially crosses us over the 100k work count lmao i can't believe i've written so much for this omg


	17. Talk

 

 

 

 

17

Talk

 

“The level of incompetence in this operation is astounding.” Damian sighed, balancing a knife on the tip of his finger, the pointed end of the blade pressed into the thin skin of his fingertip.

“Dami!” Dick snapped, smacking him on the back of the head, “Don’t be rude.”

Damian rubbed the back of his head and then turned to glare at Dick, “It is not rude if it is the truth, Richard! Father never would have allowed this to happen.”

Damian waved his hands out in front of him, towards where Jason, Stephanie, and Tim were sitting.

“If father were around, he would have kept Todd in line, and Todd wouldn’t have gallivanted off in a fishbowl with Drake, who wouldn’t have figured out our identities. If father were around, Brown would never have been allowed to become Batgirl!”

“Oh damn,” Jason muttered under his breath, “he’s really letting it all out, isn’t he?”

Tim turned and looked at Jason, “Should I be worried?”

“Nah.” Jason said, “He just needs to get it all out. I’ve got you if he starts throwing knives.”

“Comforting.” Tim hummed.

“Excuse me?” Stephanie stood up from her chair, “Why the hell am I getting dragged into this? I worked with Barbara, I didn’t have anything to do with any of you, it’s not my fault that Tim is freakishly smart and figured everything out!”

Damian cut his eyes towards her, “Yes, let us further discuss your incompetence, Brown. You worked with Gordon for how many months, yet you were never able to ascertain the rest of our identities? Frankly, it speaks to your skill as a detective, or lack thereof, that it never occurred to you that the rest of us were connected? Did you think she was conducting this whole operation under Richard’s nose?”

“Damian.” Barbara’s voice was sharp, there was a warning held behind it, “Not everyone needs to be the world’s greatest detective.”

Dick looked entirely lost, his eyes darted between Damian and Barbara.

“I suppose I could give Brown the benefit of the doubt since Gordon is remarkably good at keeping secrets.” Damian crossed his arms over his chest.

“Don’t we know it.” Dick said, louder than he intended to if his wide-eyed stare at Barbara was anything to go by.

Barbara arched an eyebrow at him, and Tim had seen that enough times to know it was a silent confirmation that they’d be talking about that comment later. If nothing else, this whole thing was giving Tim a chance to really understand the dynamics of their whole operation. It was clear they were all close, and Damian didn’t like outsiders. Understandable, since it appeared Bruce Wayne just made all of his children crime fighting vigilantes. Barbara was more of a big sister than a mother, and it was clear she and Dick had been doing this longer than any of them.

It was obvious Barbara took on more of the disciplinarian role though, leaving Dick to be the fun big brother. Something about that didn’t equate to the mantle of Batman that Dick had now taken up.

It was like an alternate universe version of Party of Five.

Things had gotten more heated in the short span of time that Tim had zoned out. Damian had progressed from a glare to a full-on snarl, and Stephanie’s hand was inching closer and closer to the collapsible baton on the table. Even Jason seemed to have gotten in on the action, he was busy glaring at Dick while Barbara whispered in a hushed tone.

“Uh…guys?” Tim said.

No one paid any attention to him, and the voices were growing louder by the second. Tim didn’t know how prone everyone was on using their various skills on a member of their family, but he didn’t want to chance it and find out.

Tim rolled his chair away from where the group was sitting and started typing on one of Barbara’s keyboards. They were all so deep into their arguments that no one even noticed him leave. It didn’t take long for Tim to get a basic understanding of how Barbara had connected the systems in the clocktower. It was all incredibly complicated, but he could at least make out the basics of how everything worked together. There were speakers all over the clocktower, so Tim tried to find a way to patch into them.

Luckily, they weren’t twelve dozen firewalls like the rest of the systems in the clocktower, so it was a matter of a few simple keystrokes to patch into it. Tim opened up the internet browser, searched for the most obnoxious sound file he could find, and then let it broadcast over the speakers.

The earsplitting air horn blared from the speakers, echoing through the room, and drowning out all the sound from the arguments going on a few feet away. The horn continued to blast for a good fifteen to twenty seconds longer, and then the obnoxious blasting sound stopped abruptly.

The clocktower was dead silent afterwards. Tim turned and found everyone staring at him.

“Hi.” Tim said, laughing nervously, “I’m glad that worked.”

Jason was the first to break, his confused look quickly gave way to a smile, which then turned into a throaty laugh. Barbara was next, doubling over with a laugh that was quickly mirrored by Stephanie, and then Dick. Damian didn’t laugh, but he’d put down his knife and didn’t look like he wanted to skin anyone, so Tim counted it as a win.

“Well, that was certainly one way to calm everyone down.” Barbara said.

Jason rolled his chair towards Tim, stopping himself by bumping their knees together, “Good thinkin’, Ferngully. It was getting close to becoming fight night.”

“Honestly, Jason?” Tim sighed, “Ferngully is a place, not a person. That doesn’t even make sense in the context of the movie.”

Jason smirked, sharp and dangerous, and leaned in, “What? You think just cuz I know how you sound when I bite your neck, I’m not gonna keep having fun with you?”

Tim immediately felt his face turn red, “Right, that? That is not a sentence we’re going to say when your family is like ten feet away.”

“But you’re so cute when you blush, Ferngullly.”

Over Jason’s shoulder, Tim saw Stephanie head towards a door nearest to the large clockface of the tower. She opened it, stepped out into the sunlight, and let it slam shut behind her. Tim lightly pushed back against Jason’s knees, rolling him backwards so he could have enough room to stand.

“Hold that thought.” Tim said, smiling.

Jason frowned, and Tim patted him on the crown of his head instead of leaning down and kissing him like he wanted to. He didn’t know what the protocol was now that they were…whatever they were.

“Everyone just take a few minutes to calm down and then we’ll reconvene, there’s things we all need to talk about.” Barbara said from behind him, “Dick, I need to talk to you alone first.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Damian huffed, “Sit here like a child?”

“C’mon brat,” Jason stood up from his chair, “come teach me that knife thing you did the other day.”

Because more proficiency with knives was exactly what Jason needed.

Tim walked across the room to the same door Stephanie went through. He opened it, stepped outside, and found himself standing on the balcony of the clocktower. The enormous clock face ticked behind him, and Tim could see half the city from the top of the tower. His own apartment stood out against the grimy skyline.

Stephanie was sitting on the ledge of the balcony, not at all looking like someone who was just a few inches away from falling to her death.

She looked over her shoulder at the sound of the door opening, she smiled when she realized it was Tim, “Fancy seeing you here.”

Tim huffed out a small laugh, “I could say the same to you.”

Stephanie got down from the ledge in one swift motion, pushing her body up with her arms and swinging her legs around in a half-circle so she was facing Tim before her feet hit the ground. She looked at him, laughed, and leaned against the railing she was just sitting on.

“This is weird, isn’t it?” Stephanie asked.

“I guess it should be.” Tim shrugged, “But I think it’s also a little hilarious that basically the only people I’ve spoken to beyond basic niceties since moving to Gotham all turned out to be crime fighting vigilantes.”

Stephanie hummed, “That says a lot about the people you associate with, Drake.”

“At least you’re in good company then, Brown.” Tim said as he walked over to her, he leaned his hip on the railing so he was facing her, “You OK? It got kind of heated in there.”

Stephanie rolled her eyes, “Damian is an asshole. That’s probably not a cool thing to say about a kid whose dad just died, but he’s still an asshole.”

Tim laughed, “I won’t tell anyone.”

“Thank you.” Stephanie crossed her arms over her chest and tipped her head back, groaning, “I knew something like this was going to happen eventually. I told Barbara it would, but she said it would be fine.”

“What’s wrong?” Tim asked, “What’s Damian’s problem with you?”

Stephanie sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, “It’s not me specifically, it’s my dad he has a problem with.”

“Your dad?” Tim asked, “Why?”

“He’s made a few not so subtle jabs at the fact that he doesn’t think I’m qualified to join their whole crusade because my father was a criminal.” Stephanie scoffed, “Which is so far beyond the pot calling the kettle black that I can’t even deal with it. I mean, his grandfather is a _literal_ terrorist and his mother is an assassin.”  

Tim blinked at her several times, “That is…a lot to unpack.”

A gust of wind blew, sending Stephanie’s hair billowing wildly behind her, “My dad was a piece of shit. He hated the world, hated my mom and I even more, and thought he could do something about it. He got it in his head that he wanted to challenge Batman, so he set off like an idiot to do it.”

“Shit.” Tim said.

“Yeah.” Stephanie raked a hand through her hair, pulling it back into position, “Batman stopped him, but not before he killed a few people. Think of it like Jigsaw, only dumber and a lot less scary.”

“Is that why you wanted to be Batgirl?” Tim asked.

“I didn’t start out trying to be Batgirl.” Stephanie laughed, “I just…I guess I felt guilty about my dad, I felt like it was my fault that he went out and killed people. Not directly, but because I knew that there was something wrong with him. I was glad when he left, but I know I could have done _something_ to change what happened.”

Tim frowned, “I know how you feel.”

Stephanie turned away from him and looked out over the city, “I guess in a lot of ways, I was like my dad. But where he wanted to challenge Batman, I wanted to _be_ like Batman. It started as a way for me to appease my guilt, but once I kept doing it, it made me feel alive. It was like something was missing, and I hadn’t known it was until I started doing it. I looked like a mess, just a girl running around in a purple hooded cape and beating up random muggers and would-be car jackers.”

“How did you go from that to Batgirl?” Tim asked with a smile, “It seems like a big jump.”

“This sounds so weird to say out loud,” Stephanie laughed, “but one night I was chasing after these guys who broke into an electronics store, and one of the computers started talking to me.”

“Barbara?” Tim laughed.

Stephanie nodded, “I thought I was going crazy at first, but then the computer told me my full name, date of birth, and social security number. She told me that I was putting myself in danger, being reckless, all the usual Barbara stuff. She was right, mind you, because I was running around fighting crime in a cape and a _hoodie,_ but I’m stubborn and don’t listen, so I didn’t listen.”

“I’m sure she loved that.” Tim said.

“Oh, she was _thrilled_.” Stephanie rolled her eyes, “Everywhere I went, there was a little robot voice following me and pointing out everything I was doing wrong. She was trying to get me to stop, but it was just making me better. I think she was trying to scare me away, but I was just taking all her criticism and using it to make myself better. At some point she realized I wasn’t going to stop until something happened that I couldn’t come back from, so then the school librarian showed up at my door and told me to follow her, and we ended up here.”

“That’s quite the origin story.” Tim said, impressed.

“It’s been a lot of hard work, but I think I’m better for it.” Stephanie said, “Not just at kicking ass and taking names, but, like, a better person. Plus, my dad would hate it, so it’s a double win.”

“Everyone here has an interesting relationship with their father, don’t they?” Tim shook his head.

“Daddy issues.” Stephanie said solemnly, “It’s a job requirement.”

“Sounds about right.” Tim laughed.

“You’re not mad at me, are you?” Stephanie asked, “For lying to you or whatever?”

Tim shook his head, “Not at all. I’m not even mad a Jason, and he was simultaneously stalking me as himself and the Red Hood.”

Stephanie laughed, “Yeah, he’s not exactly subtle.”

“He isn’t.” Tim agreed.

Stephanie nudged him in the side, “Neither is that mark on your neck.”

Tim’s hands immediately flew to his neck, patting around until he felt a tender spot where Jason’s teeth had been only a few hours before. He looked at Stephanie with wide, panicked eyes, and she threw her head back and laughed as another gust of wind sent her hair flying.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small tube, tossing it at Tim, “I swiped this from the bathroom a few minutes ago. It should match you well enough.”

Tim caught the tube, turning it over to find that it was a concealer, he hastily unscrewed the cap and dabbed it onto his skin, “Do you think anyone else noticed?”

“Babs for sure, but only because she freakishly pays attention to everything.” Stephanie batted Tim’s hand away and used her fingers to pat the product into his skin, “I know Dick didn’t, because he would have said something about it the second he realized.”

Tim groaned, “You’re a lifesaver.”

Tim wasn’t sure if Jason was ready for his brothers to know about them. Hell, Tim wasn’t even sure if they knew that Jason even liked guys. If they didn’t, this was probably the worst time in the history of humanity to out him.

“We should go before they send out a search party.” Stephanie angled her head towards the door, “But as your best friend, I expect all the disgusting details later.”

That stopped Tim in his tracks, “Best friend?”

Stephanie looked over her shoulder as she moved towards the door, “Of course.”

“Stephanie, you’re like my only friend.” Tim cocked his head to the side.

“Thus, making me your best friend.” Stephanie laughed, shaking her head, “Jeez, as smart as you are, you really are slow on the uptake.”

“So I’ve been told.” Tim said, slightly stunned.

Tim analyzed Stephanie’s words in his head as he followed her back into the clocktower. The concept of having a best friend was something entirely new to him, and Tim wasn’t sure how he acquired a best friend and a possible boyfriend all in the span of 24 hours.

Gotham City was fucking wild.

The atmosphere inside the clocktower was lighter. Damian was sitting cross-legged on the training mat, his eyes closed, and Jason was reclining in one of the rolling chairs with his feet up on a desk. Jason’s eyes were closed, and his arms were behind his head.

“Babs will kill you if she sees you with your feet on her desk.” Stephanie said.

Jason startled, just barely keeping himself from falling out of the rolling chair, “Bite me, Brown.”

Oh no.

Stephanie smirked, “I think you’re the one who likes to do the biting, Todd.”

Jason’s eyes went wide, then immediately flicked towards Tim. Tim blushed, lowering his head in a futile attempt to avoid embarrassment. Damian cracked one eye open to watch them, and Tim silently mouthed a sorry to Jason.

The elevator opened, and they were mercifully saved by the arrival of Dick and Barbara. Damian pushed himself up from the mat, vaulting over the railing from the raised level down to the lower one and came to a stop next to Dick. Tim followed Stephanie down the ramp, and Jason rolled down the ramp in his chair, bumping into the back of Tim’s knees to stop himself.

Tim was positive the sharp pinch he felt on his ass was intentional.

“I’m glad everyone’s calmed down.” Dick said, “Barbara brought me up to speed on everything Tim told her.”

Damian huffed, “Thank you for including me, Richard.”

“Chill, Lil’ D,” Dick ruffled his hair, “We’re getting to that.”

Damian’s cheeks turned a scarlet shade of red, “Do not call me that!”

Tim, Stephanie, and Jason all snickered.

Damian glared at them to.

Barbara balanced a tablet on her lap, she swiped through a few screens, and then every monitor in the clocktower was filled with Doctor Hurt’s face. It was a more complete view of him than Tim’s memory of the digital recreation offered, and the sight of his dark eyes made Tim’s skin crawl.

“The name he gave Tim wasn’t false,” Barbara said as all the screens changed to a birth certificate, “Simon Hurt is his real name, and he is a licensed psychologist who used to be employed by NASA.”

Tim stared at the screen, “NASA? Seriously?”

“Correct.” Barbra nodded, “He was the head of a series of isolation experiments, but he was let go when his methods were deemed too extreme, which coming from NASA is saying something.”

“Isolation experiments?” Stephanie asked.

“NASA wanted to conduct experiments on groups of pre-selected candidates to simulate what it might be like for a group of astronauts to live in complete isolation on an alien planet. It was also designed to see how functional a crew could be if, for some reason, their spacecraft was cut off from earth completely. There were three running at the same time, three groups of six men and women were isolated for six months to a year, cut off from humanity entirely.”

“Jesus.” Dick whispered, “What did this guy do that got him fired?”

“He turned one of the simulations into a horror movie.” Barbra pulled up another file, a still frame of a video, “Seven months into the year-long simulation, Doctor Hurt secretly began contacting one of the participants through the hidden intercom system within the facility. The isolation had already done a number on him, and he began to think he was hearing voices from God. Doctor Hurt let him believe that, and began to give him commands to see how far he would go to please his God.”

Barbara clicked play on the video. The black and white screen flickered for a moment, but the picture focused a few seconds later. A man was in the center of the video, he was walking directly behind another man, and then abruptly ripped him backwards by the hair. He pulled a knife out of his pocket, drew it across the other man’s throat, and dropped his body to the ground while he bled out.

Tim watched as the man went around the facility, killing each member of the team one by one. His outfit was covered with blood by the time he was done, and he looked directly into the camera.

“Does that make you happy?” The man screamed.

A beat of silence.

“No.” Doctor Hurt’s voice came through the speakers, “Cut your face off.”

Tim watched in horror as the main raised the knife to his face, slicing it down the center.

The video cut to a black screen.

“Holy fuck.” Jason whispered.

“Same.” Stephanie agreed.

“What happened next?” Damian asked.

“The other two isolation experiments were shut down, and NASA claimed that a training accident killed the members that died. They paid out millions of dollars in settlements to the participants families.” Barbara said, “Doctor Hurt was fired from NASA, but no charges could be pressed against him because the isolation experiments were unsanctioned.”

“So he just walked away?” Tim asked, astonished, “The guy is a fucking psychopath and NASA just let him walk back out into the world? They’re just as responsible for everyone he’s killed since then.”

“There was nothing they could do that wouldn’t incriminate themselves.” Barbara said, “I agree with you though, which is why this information will all be dumped to every legitimate news organization within the next few days.”

“That’s my girl.” Dick grinned, Barbara rolled her eyes, “Where did he go next?”

“There’s zero record of him for five years following the incidents at NASA.” Barbara paused, “But I’ll give you one guess where he popped back up last year.”

“No.” Jason sighed, “Don’t say it, Babs.”

“Of course.” Damian scoffed.

The next photo that filled the screens was an employment file, with a stamp at the top that read Arkham Asylum.

“Oh.” Tim said, “Fuck.”

“Who did he work with?” Dick asked, “Any heavy hitters?”

“A few.” Barbara said, reading off a list, “Victor Zsasz, Scarecrow, The Riddler, and…”

Barbara trailed off into an uncomfortable silence. Tim didn’t understand what was happening, it seemed like everyone in the room was looking at him without trying to look at him. He realized a moment later though, that they weren’t looking at him, they were looking at Jason.

“The Joker.” Jason whispered.

“Yes.” Barbara said in a neutral tone, “The Joker was the last resident of Arkham that Doctor Hurt worked with before he left six months ago.”

Jason’s posture had gone completely rigid. His fists were curled into tight balls, his knuckles completely white. He only relaxed once Damian cleared his throat and spoke.

“What is our next move?” Damian asked, “We need to know how he knew about Father, and to find out if he truly did play a part in his death.”

“All of us are doing a complete sweep of the city tonight.” Dick said, “I want to find any information we can on Hurt and his impostor Batman. Robin and I are going to look deeper into the bombing, I don’t care if I have to turn over every rock in the damn city. Steph, I want you and Jason out looking for any leads on him too.”

Stephanie and Damian nodded.

“I’ve got Delphi running facial recognition on all the cameras in the city looking for Hurt, if he shows himself then we’ll know.” Barbara said, “There’s not much we can do until then. I'm going to crack into Arkham's network and see if I can pull up any of Hurt's records, I'm also going to reexamine the reports from the bombing to look for any inconsistencies now that we know more. ”

“Got it.” Jason said, abruptly standing and pushing his chair backwards.

Tim watched as Jason stalked across the room to the door that led to the balcony. He opened it, stepped out into the light, and let it slam shut behind him. He was torn, part of him wanted to follow Jason, but the other part of him knew he was missing something. The part of Tim’s mind that needed to know everything wanted to ask questions, wanted to find out why Jason was so upset, but then he remembered Jason’s words earlier in the morning when he asked Tim to not ask about some of his scars.

“I’m gonna go make sure he’s OK.” Tim said softly, standing.

Dick shook his head, “I think he just needs a few minutes by him-”

Dick was cut off by Barbara, “That’s a good idea, Tim. Find me once you’re done, I want to talk about something with you.”

“Sure.” Tim nodded, slightly confused.

Jason was standing with his back to the door when Tim stepped out onto the balcony again. His arms were folded over the top of the railing, he looked over his shoulder when he heard the door open.

“What’s up, Toadette?”

Tim let out a small sigh of relief, he felt better knowing Jason was still calm enough to be a smart ass.

“Just came to see if you were OK.” Tim said softly.

Jason pushed himself away from the railing, turning towards Tim, but he kept his eyes on the ground, “Just peachy.”

“You sure?” Tim asked.

He didn’t want to push, but he wanted Jason to know that he was there.

Jason was quiet for a moment, then he sighed. He took a few steps towards the right side of the balcony, then stopped, turned on his heel, and started pacing back and forth. Tim stayed quiet, letting Jason decide when or if he wanted to say something.

“No.” Jason kicked his heel against the ground, “I’m sick of that fucking Clown invading everything. I can’t fucking go one day without thinking of him.”

“Jay-”

Jason cut him off, “Don’t. Please, Tim. I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.”

“OK.” Tim said immediately, “I get it.”

Jason looked up at him, he looked like he was surprised.

“What?” Tim asked.

Jason’s shoulders slumped, “I just don’t get you sometimes.”

Tim’s brows drew together in confusion, “What do you mean?”

“You’re an asshole.” Jason said.

“Uh?” Tim cocked his head to the side.

Jason groaned, dragging a hand through his hair, “No. God. Fuck. That’s not what I meant.”

“OK?” Tim said, still confused.

“I mean, yeah. You’re an asshole. That’s one of the things I like about you.” Jason said, “You can be a complete dick, and you don’t take shit from anyone, but then you do nice shit like that.”

“Like what?”

Jason waved his hands in front of himself, “Like that! I ask you not to push, and you don’t push. You’re obsessed with knowing everything, but when I ask you not to ask me something because I don’t want to talk about it, you don’t. And I know it’s killing you inside, don’t lie to me and tell me it isn’t.”

“It’s not killing me.” Tim said, Jason arched a single eyebrow of disbelief, “It’s not! I want what’s best for you, Jason. If not talking about something right now is what’s best, then I get it. Trust me. I’m the king of not wanting to talk about things. I’ve never had the luxury to ask someone to not ask me about something I don’t want to talk about, but I’m not going to take that away from you. You’ll tell me when you’re ready.”

Tim took a deep breath, feeling slightly winded. Jason stood there for a moment, then darted forwards towards Tim. Jason’s hands fell on either side of Tim’s face, and he pulled him forward into a deep kiss. Tim’s lips parted immediately, and Jason’s tongue slipped inside his mouth. They stood there kissing, Tim’s head cradled in Jason’s hands, until Jason broke the kiss.

“Thank you.” Jason said, his hands still on either side of Tim’s head.

“You’re welcome.” Tim stared at him for a moment, his parted lips, “You gonna be OK out here?”

Jason nodded, “Yeah. I’ll come inside in a few, just wanna get my shit together.”

“OK.” Tim said, “I’ll be there when you’re ready.”

“You better be.” Jason smirked.

Tim shrugged, “I mean, you are my ride.”

“Asshole.” Jason rolled his eyes.

Tim left Jason to his thoughts, content enough with the fact that Jason knew he cared, and that he was there if Jason wanted to talk. Step and Damian were sparring on the mat when Tim walked back into the clocktower.

“Give him hell, Steph!” Tim offered encouragement, watching Stephanie slip around Damian and put him into a chokehold.

Damian flipped her over his shoulder a second later, then pounced on her and pinned her down with his forearm across her throat. Tim winced in sympathy, leaving them to it as he went to find Barbara. She was on the lower level of the room, one of Jason’s guns taken apart on the table in front of her.

“Hey.” Tim said when he approached, “You wanted to talk to me?”

“I did.” Barbara said, looking up at him, “Sit. How’s Jason?”

Tim sat in the chair that Barbara pointed to, “He said he’ll be fine.”

Barbra smirked, “Do you believe him?”

“Yeah.” Tim said, nodding.

“Good.” Barbara smiled, “So, Dick and I were talking, and I was wondering what you’d think about working with me tonight while everyone is out on patrol.”

“Working…” Tim trailed off, “with you?”

Barbara nodded, “You’re smart. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders, and Jason trusts you. Which means I trust you. And if I trust you, then so does everyone else. The only person harder to win over than me is Alfred, and I hear that you made a pretty good impression on him too.”

“You really want me to?” Tim asked.

“Yes.” Barbara said, “If I’m being honest, I could use the help. We’re all hands on deck with Doctor Hurt, and I still have the Birds of Prey to worry about too. I would feel a lot better if I knew I had someone else in my corner.”

“I don’t know if I’m good enough to help you.” Tim said honestly.

“You are.” Barbara said, “And where you’re not, I’ll pick up the slack. I’ve seen what you can do with your setup at home, imagine what you could do with mine behind you.”

“You’re sure?” Tim asked.

“I wouldn't ask you if I wasn’t.” Barbara said, "IT doesn't have to be anything permanent if you don't want it to be, and I'm not asking you if you want to put on a mask and go gallivanting around the city like everyone else.

Tim thought about it for a few seconds. It was terrifying, if he was being truly honest. He could already see himself making a mistake, getting Jason or someone else injured because he wasn’t smart enough or fast enough.

But.

He looked around the room at the impressive set up, his eyes falling on every single piece of machinery. If Stephanie could go out onto the streets and try to stop crime in a hoodie, Tim could sit in the clocktower and help them any way he could.

Jason trusted him with his secret, and Tim couldn’t think of a better way to help repay that trust than to help Jason and the rest of his family in any way he could.

“OK.” Tim said.

“Good.” Barbara wheeled herself away from the table and towards the ramp, “Follow me then we’ve got a lot of stuff to get set up before sundown.”

A thought occurred to Tim as he followed behind Barbara, “Does this mean I get a codename?”

Barbara laughed, “If you can think of something in the next few hours that isn’t completely terrible, then yes.”

Tim already had something in mind.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this chapter took forever cuz its kinda that weird part that just needed to be here to kick off the final act of the story, so i'm w/e about it but i hope you guys liked it! i look forward to the comments, you guys amaze me with how nice you are every time and it really makes me feel great lol


	18. Patrol

 

 

 

 

18

Patrol

 

“We’re just giving everyone a motorcycle these days, huh? You know how expensive they are?”

Jason propped himself up against the brick wall of the alley, one leg behind him to balance his weight as his knee stuck out. He ejected the magazine from one of his guns, counting the bullets inside to make sure it was full, before briefly looking up to see Batgirl sitting atop a purple bike with bright yellow accents.

Stephanie pulled the helmet from her head, shaking out her hair as it tumbled down to her shoulders. Jason still wasn’t quite over the shock that Stephanie Brown, the goody two shoes he’d gone to school with for years, was Batgirl. He was having trouble reconciling the girl he saw break three noses in the span of five minutes with the same girl who’d almost cried in middle school when Jason told her that her analysis of Dante was utter shit.

In retrospect, Jason was probably lucky he didn’t walk away from that situation with a broken nose of his own.

Stephanie shrugged, “Gotta spend money to make money.”

Jason supposed that was true, even if it didn’t technically make sense. He spun the gun around his finger and then slid it back into its holster. He probably shouldn’t be talking about money anyway, just one of his guns alone cost more than Stephanie’s bike due to their expensive modifications.  

Jason pushed himself off the wall and headed towards the mouth of the alley. Their plan was to shakedown any of the criminals who were active in the areas around the school, find out if they saw anything that could lead them in the right direction of Doctor Hurt or the imposter Batman. Dick and Damian were at Arkham, a job that wasn’t even offered in Jason’s direction, seeing what they could learn about Doctor Hurt’s time there.

“Wait a second.” Stephanie called out from behind him.

Jason turned to see her standing a few feet away, her collapsible staff in her hand in its smallest size. It resembled Dick’s weapon of choice as Nightwing, but Jason knew just how quickly the staff could spring open to deliver some mid-range damage.

“What do you want, blondie?” Jason sighed, the sound coming out in an odd crackle due to the vocal modulator inside the helmet, he smirked to himself remembering Tim’s crack about his sounding like Darth Vader when he did that.

“I just want to say something before we go live on the group comm.” Stephanie said, she pursed her lips for a second, “Be good to Tim.”

Jason stared at her, blinking rapidly even though she couldn’t see it, “What?”

“Don’t hurt him.” Stephanie said, “He’s sweet, in his own weird way. He doesn’t trust people, but he trusts you, so don’t take that for granted.”

Jason’s head was spinning, not dissimilar to the time he got a concussion from standing too close to an exploding top hat.

“Where the hell is this coming from?” Jason asked, once he found his voice again.

“Nowhere in particular.” Stephanie said, “I’ve known you for a long time, Jason.”

“Shouldn’t that put you on my side?” Jason yelped, “Should Tim be the one you’re giving a shovel talk to?”

“I’m not giving you the shovel talk.” Stephanie rolled her eyes.

“Says the girl who is threateningly holding a collapsible bo staff in my direction.” Jason deadpanned.

“Listen, all I’m saying is that I’d never seen Tim smile until I saw him in the clocktower with you, at least not a real smile.” Stephanie shrugged.

It suddenly dawned on Jason, he was surprised he hadn’t noticed it before, “You have a crush on him!”

“What?” Stephanie gasped, he could already see the pink climbing in her face, even though the face mask of the cowl, “I do not have a crush on Tim!”

Jason eyed her, he took a step forward that hopefully wasn’t as threatening as it looked. He didn’t have any interest in getting into a fight with Stephanie, and he certainly wasn’t going to fight her for Tim’s hand in marriage or something fucked up like that. Jason was pretty confident that Tim would choose him over Stephanie anyway.

“Maybe not anymore, but you did.” Jason said, “I can tell.”

Stephanie blinked at him, “How?”

It wasn’t a denial, Jason noted, “Cuz you talk about him the way I do in my head.”

Stephanie stared at him for a second, and then she tossed her head back in a fit of laughter, there were tears in her eyes when she looked back at Jason, “Oh my god, that is the cheesiest, most amazing thing I have ever heard someone say about another person! Screw your damn helmet, I’d kill to see your face when you said that.”

Jason glared at her, which was rendered useless by the helmet, “Whatever. Don’t be an asshole.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Stephanie said, using a gloved knuckle to wipe away a stray tear in her eye, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be a dick. That was really sweet.”

“Whatever. Let’s just go kick some ass.” Jason said as he turned away from Stephanie, he paused before they exited the alley, “For what it’s worth, I’ll let you kick my ass if I hurt him.”

He could hear Stephanie’s footsteps behind him, “I’ll hold you to that, Red Rocket.”

“Don’t push your luck, Blondie.” Jason paused, looking over his shoulder at her.

Stephanie just rolled her eyes at him before pulling out her grapple gun. She aimed it upwards, pulled the trigger, and zipped off into the air. With a sigh, Jason copied her, his feet were ripped off the ground, and he came to a stop of the rooftop a few seconds after her.

Stephanie giggled when he stumbled on a piece of stray gravel, Jason might have contemplated pushing her off the roof for half a second.

She’d land on her feet.

Probably.

Stephanie looked down at the street below, she pressed a finger against her ear, “Batgirl, online.”

“Red Hood, online.” Jason echoed, tapping the side of his helmet.

The HUD that was built into the helmet flickered to life. It displayed useful information like who was speaking, transmitted their locations, and offered a readout of places of interest in the area that was being filtered through Barbara’s systems. It was a bit of a perk, it meant that Jason didn’t have to waste time pulling the slim tablet that displayed most of what he was seeing out of his utility belt like everyone else did.

Stephanie pulled out her tablet, dragging her finger down it, “Oh.”

“What?” Jason asked.

Stephanie smirked at him, “I found our Oracle Junior.”

The HUD shifted with the movement of Jason’s eyes, displaying a list of everyone connected to their open communication line.

Oracle: Connected

Batman: Connected

Robin: Connected

Red Hood: Connected

Batgirl: Connected

Coeus: Connected

“Coeus?” Jason said out loud.

A soft laugh came from over the line, a laugh that Jason instantly recognized as Tim, “You’re pronouncing it wrong.”

Jason stared at the small blip next to Tim’s codename, he almost couldn’t believe that he was hearing Tim’s voice inside the helmet, “How the hell am I supposed to say it, smart ass?”

“Kee-yos.” Tim said, “Though there is some differing opinions and it’s possible it actually sounds like Koy-us due to the differences in the pronunciation of the modern and ancient Greek languages.”

“Nice.” Stephanie hummed, “A history lesson and a night full of kicking ass all in one, I’m into it.”

“Adequate choice.” Damian voice piped up on the line.

“The hell is a Coeus?” Jason asked, confused.

“Honestly, Hood.” Jason could hear Damian’s eyes rolling, “Coeus was a Titan in ancient Greek mythology. His name roughly translates to intelligence, and he was the Titan who represented knowledge and farsightedness.”

“Farsight?” Stephanie asked.

Barbara answered, “Coeus displayed a desire to learn, and with his inquisitive mind he was gifted with knowledge and the understanding of how to see things beyond just the surface level. I think it’s a pretty perfected fit, to be honest.”

Jason could only imagine the awkward blush on Tim’s face right now. He wished he could see it.

“Yeah, I knew none of that.” Jason said, evening the street below him, “Musta been asleep during that part of history class.”

“It wouldn’t surprise me.” Dick’s laughter crackled in his ear.

“Fuck off.” Jason growled.

“Boys, play nice.” Barbara sighed, “We’ve got a busy night ahead of us.”

“Robin and I are en-route to Arkham, we’ll update you with what we find out.” Dick said, the hum of the Batmobile’s engine just barely evident over the link.

“Still no luck finding any information in Arkham’s system?” Stephanie asked.

“No.” Barbara said, “Coeus and I have been sifting through their files dating back to when Hurt first started working there, but there’s nothing aside from the weekly schedule that details which doctors are assigned to which inmates.”

“Most doctors at Arkham upload copies of their patient files to the dedicated server within the building, but Hurt didn’t. There are no records of him ever accessing the server from any computer within Arkham.” Tim said, “Which is…troubling.”

“Troubling?” Stephanie repeated, “More like terrifying.”

“This man was left alone with an untold number of deranged psychotics, there is no telling what he could have done to their minds.” Damian said.

“Making the crazy ones crazier is a first.” Jason shuddered.

He didn’t think it was possible for the Joker to get anymore fucked up, but a mind-controlled Joker doing fuck knows what was possibly one of the most chilling things he’d ever thought of.

“It’s possible he wasn’t successful, which is why he left Arkham.” Barbara offered, “There’s only so far you can push someone who’s already gone over the edge, what use is there manipulating the mind of someone who’s already lost it?”

“Maybe he was just trying to learn some new tricks?” Dick said, “What’s a better place to practice than Arkham?”

“Either way, I don’t fucking like it.” Jason said, “I don’t fucking like any of it.”

“Ditto.” Stephanie said, “Can we go beat people up now?”

Jason looked at her, smirking behind the mask, “That’s what I wanna hear.”

Tim laughed softly on the other end of the line, “I found something that might work for both of you.”

“Oh!” Stephanie said excitedly, “You’re already finding things? Are you like a secret vigilante prodigy or something?”

“Or something.” Jason smirked.

“Hardly.” Tim said, “Oracle gave me a brief rundown on things to look for when I’m searching through the city.”

“What’d you find?” Jason asked.

“I got into the cities electrical grid to see if anything unusual stood out, and a few blocks from the school there’s a supposedly unoccupied brownstone using about seven times more electricity than any of the buildings around it. I’m sending you two the location now.” Tim said.

“Weird.” Stephanie said, swiping through her small tablet, “What do you think it is?”

The location for the building appeared on the display inside Jason’s helmet, he committed it to memory before responding to Stephanie, “Generally, when any building is using more electricity than it should be using it means that something illegal is going down. Most of the times it means drugs, but there are other things it could mean. A few years ago, B and I showed up at a gardening store that was using more electricity than any building around it for five miles, we checked out the basement and found fifty printing presses that were making counterfeit dollar bills.”

“And they say money doesn’t grow on trees.” Stephanie grinned.

Jason sighed, he reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose, but stopped when he remembered he was wearing the helmet, “Please don’t try to be quippy.”

“I don’t have to _try_ to be quippy, I am quippy.” Stephanie stuck her tongue out at him, “It’s in my nature.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jason walked to the opposite edge of the roof, heading in the direction of the building, “Let’s go before I give in to the urge to push you off the roof.”

Stephanie rolled her eyes, “I’d just drag you down with me, asshat.”

Stephanie was off the roof and on top of the next one before Jason could reply. He followed after her, pushing off the ledge with the thick sole of his boot and bridging the gap between the two buildings with ease. He continued his run across the next rooftop without a stumble, years of practice as Robin taught Jason the tricks that made free running across rooftops easy.

Stephanie dropped off the ledge in front of him, the shot up towards the roof of the taller building that was next door. Jason’s grapple was out before he even hit the end of the roof, he aimed it at the fire escape of the next building and pulled the trigger, tightening his grip on the gun as he was ripped of his feet and into the air. He sailed past Stephanie, giving her a thumbs up as he took the lead in the unofficial race.

“Mature.” Tim’s amused voice chirped in his ear, filtering out Stephanie’s muffled curse words behind him.

Jason’s breath caught briefly at the sound of Tim’s voice, he’d forgotten that Tim was even on the line. He didn’t know when it would start to feel real that Tim was out there with him, even if it was only in his head.

“You know me, I’m just known for my maturity.” Jason grinned beneath the hood as he found his voice again.

“You’re wise beyond your years, Hood.” Tim chuckled, “You’re coming up on the building, you should see it a few hundred feet to your left.”

Jason stopped running and turned in the direction that Tim gave him. Stephanie stopped next to him, and she pointed to the boarded-up building nearby. It was an old brownstone, one that looked like it had been vacant for a long time. All the windows were covered by flimsy plywood sheets, and there was a rusted chain link fence drilled into the concrete of the sidewalk in front of the building.

Jason used the magnified vision of the hood to zoom in on the building, there was a sign plastered to the front of the fence, “Gamble and Associates?”

“It’s the company that owns the building, it’s been up for sale through the real estate firm for the last few years.” Tim said, “The last time it was shown to a prospective buyer was almost a year ago.”

“Looks like the perfect drug den to me, they’ve probably forgotten about it.” Stephanie said, dropping down to the street below.

Jason followed her, “It’s a safe location too, close enough to the good part of the city to not be given too much attention by the police.”

“Several schools are located within a three-mile radius too, which, depending on what they’re working on in there, gives them a lot of potential clients.” Tim said, “But that’s not why I thought this would be a good place to check out…not that I like drugs being sold to kids.”

“Nice save.” Jason smirked.

“Anyway,” Tim ignored him, “looking at a map of the area around NGPA, this direction seems the most likely way the imposter Batman would head. All other directions lead to better parts of Gotham, but this one starts to take you to the dirtier parts of the city. It would make sense for a drug operation to be hypervigilant about what happens around them, so if anyone around here has seen something, I’d be willing to bet it would be someone inside that building.”

“Right.” Stephanie nodded, “We’ll just go knock on the door and ask the nice people inside, who probably have a lot of guns, if they’ve seen someone who looks like a horror story version of Batman walking around.”

The blueprints for the building flashed across the screen inside Jason’s helmet, they zoomed in on the roof of the building, Tim’s voice followed a second later, “There’s an access door on top of the roof, I figured you could get in and do the whole stealth thing you guys seem to like doing.”

“Hood and Batgirl cannot be stealthy to save their lives.” Damian’s voice broke through.

“Screw you, brat.” Jason grunted, he tapped the side of his helmet, “We’re switching to our own feed, yell if you’re getting eaten by a mutant or something, I guess.”

Damian’s reply was cut off as Jason switched the feed. The HUD on his screen was blank for a second, showing no one on the line with him, but Batgirl popped in a second after he did. Jason waited for a few more seconds for Tim to show up, but nothing happened.

“Coeus?” Jason wondered out loud.

A few seconds after that, Tim’s codename popped up on the screen, “Sorry, sorry. It took me a second to figure out how to change the feed on my own.”

“Why didn’t you just ask Oracle?” Stephanie asked.

Jason cut in before Tim could reply, “Because _Coeus_ has this habit of having to do things on his own, and he probably forgot that he’s part of a team now.”

Tim was silent for a moment, and then, “Oracle…may have just said the same thing to me.”

“She’s a smart lady.” Jason nodded.

There was no movement around the brownstone that Jason could see, and the chain link fence in front didn’t look to be disturbed, so there was probably another way into the building that they didn’t know about. Tim had the best idea, so he shot his grapple up towards the roof of the building and trusted Stephanie to follow him.

Jason saw the door as soon as he landed on the roof, and he walked towards it as he heard Stephanie make her landing behind him. It didn’t look like the door had been opened in a long time, and a rusted padlock held it firmly in place. Stephanie edged past him, dropping down in front of the lock and pulling a pair of lockpicks out of her utility belt.

“Should’ve come more prepared.” Tim said, sounding amused.

“I’m more used to kicking doors in.” Jason said.

“Got it!” The lock popped open, Stephanie pulled it off the door and tossed it to the side.

Jason edged in front of her, pulling one of his guns out of its holster and raising it in front of himself. He looked over his shoulder to indicate for Stephanie to follow him, and she nodded, pulling out her collapsed bo staff.

The stairwell was empty, Jason couldn’t hear anyone as they descended the stairs to the top floor of the building. He pushed open a heavy door and took a step into an abandoned hallway, the carpets were worn thin, frayed at the edges where the floor met the walls that were covered in flaking yellow paint.

“The building has five floors.” Tim said.

“If anything is going on, it’s probably on the first floor.” Jason said.

“Makes sense.” Tim agreed, “An easy way in, and an easy way out if there’s any trouble.”

“It sounds pretty quiet, but I want to check each floor just in case.” Stephanie said, “I’d rather waste time now than be surprised by something later.”

Jason nodded, “Good thinkin’, Blondie.”

Stephanie pulled something from a pouch on her utility belt, it looked like a flat pair of binoculars. She pressed the side and they sprung open in her palm, she held them up and twisted them around, “That’s nifty.”

“What is it?” Jason asked.

“Oracle said it’s a prototype portable version of some of the different scanning lenses in your helmet, Hood.” Tim answered for him.

“Not everyone wears a bucket on their head with all the fun gadgets inside of it.” Stephanie said, “This was my compromise with Oracle since the starlight lenses that Batman and Robin wear creep me out and irritate my eyes.”

“They’re supposed to be creepy, that’s the point.” Jason said, “The blankness in them is supposed to unsettle you.”

Stephanie shrugged, turning from him, “Consider me unsettled. I’m gonna use these to scan the floors, I’ll meet you on the bottom in a few minutes. Yell if you’re dying or something.”

Jason glared at her back until it disappeared into the shadow of darkness by the stairwell, “Brat.”

Tim’s soft chuckle made the hairs on his arm stand, even through the armor, “Takes one to know one.”

“Don’t make me regret having you in my ear.” Jason said after clearing his throat a few seconds later.

Tim hummed, “You’d never.”

He was right.

“Asshole.”

Tim stayed silent as Jason made his way back to the stairwell. He saw Stephanie’s cape disappear through the door below that he assumed led to the fourth floor hallway, but he bypassed every one of those doors until he was on the ground floor. The knob for the door that let out onto the first floor lacked the dust that every other door that Jason saw on the way down, which meant that people used it regularly.  He quietly wrapped a gloved hand around it and pulled it open slowly to hopefully minimize any sound from old rusty hinges.

The door opened silently, and Jason quickly slipped through it and closed it behind him without making a sound. The first floor was more open than the last one he was on, but still just as dark. To his left, Jason could see the lobby of the building, though he could just barely make it out because of the boarded up windows that stopped nearly all light from coming in. To his right, he saw another long hallway filled with apartment doors.

Jason looked down at the ground and found two distinct sets of footprints in the dirt. One set went left, towards the lobby, while the other went right. Jason decided to follow the footprints to the left first. He kept his gun at the ready as he followed the footprints around the corner. They led him to a door that was marked as employees only, he slipped through the door and into a room that was pitch black.

“Shit.” Jason said, reaching for his helmet to change the vision mode.

He tapped the side of the helmet twice, and the world around him was illuminated in green and grey night vision. Jason saw where the footsteps came from immediately, they led to the back of the room and stopped right in front of a broken window with a board in front of it. Jason pushed the board with the tip of his finger and it swung back and forth like a doggy door.

“Found how they’re getting inside.” Jason said, “A window in one of the rooms leads to the side alley, they’ve got it rigged up to let them in.”

“Can you cut off their exit if they try to run?” Tim asked.

“I can make something work.”

Jason opened the door the led to the lobby and stepped through it, but he reached around it turned the lock on the other side of the door before he closed it. Once he heard it click back into place, Jason tried to open the door again and smiled to himself when the handle didn’t move.

“Creative.” Tim said, amused.

“Stop spying on me through my eyes!” Jason hissed.

“Why?” Tim asked, his voice low, “Afraid of what I’ll see?”

Jason was two seconds away from begging Barbara to fire Tim, he didn’t sign up to be flirted with while he was in the field, especially when he couldn’t flirt back.

Dick and the brat would never let him hear the end of it.

“Shut up and do your job, key face.” Jason huffed.

“That doesn’t even remotely make sense.” Tim was probably rolling his eyes, “Anyway, there’s a laptop somewhere on the first floor that’s connected to a mobile hotspot that I can hack in to if you give me a second.”

“Take all the time you need.” Jason rolled his eyes, “Yo, Batgirl, you still alive?”

“Unfortunately for you, yes.” Stephanie answered, “I’m around the corner.”

“Wonderful.” Jason said sarcastically, he rounded the corner to find Stephanie leaning against the wall, trying to pull her cape out from where it was stuck behind her, “Find anything?”

Stephanie jumped, startled, which made Jason smirk, “Nope. All clear.”

“The signal is coming from the end of the first floor hallway.” Tim said, “Going by the original blueprints, you should be looking for apartment 126.”

Jason nodded, flicking his head to the side for Stephanie to follow behind him, “You get into their computer yet?”

“Almost.” The sound of Tim’s fingers flying across the keyboard could be heard through the connection, “I’m still trying to get used to Oracle’s set up.”

“Take your time.” Jason said, shrugging.

“And I’m in…” Tim trailed off, “Oh.”

“What?” Jason asked, suddenly alert.

A beat of silence passed, then Stephanie asked, “Coeus? What is it? IS everything OK?”

Tim’s icon reappeared on screen again, and the only thing Jason could hear over the comm was the sound of laughter. It wasn’t Tim laughing alone, he could hear Barbara’s distinct giggle too, which meant she was either right next to Tim or looking over his shoulder.

“Yeah, everything is fine.” Tim said, taking a deep breath, “Just a little surprised at what I saw when I accessed the laptops webcam.”

“What is it?” Stephanie asked.

“I’d tell you, but I feel like it would ruin the surprise.” Tim said, “Feel free to kick down the door, I don’t think there’s anything in there you should be afraid of.”

Jason didn’t have to be told twice, he stopped in front of the door, took a step back, then jammed the heel of his combat boot into the center of the door. The building was old enough that the door had become unstable and slightly rotted, so it splintered from the hinges and broke away from the frame. The door itself flew inwards, crashing against the opposite wall.

The apartment inside was washed with an incandescent blue tinged light, and Jason could see rows of potted plants with the lights strung over them.

“You have got to be kidding me.” Jason sighed, “This place is a grow house?”

“That is not what I expected.” Stephanie said, rubbing her nose, “Damn that’s strong.”

“Our entrepreneurs are hiding in the master bathroom.” Tim said, “There’s two of them, and they’re scared shitless.”

“Wonderful.” Jason stomped into the apartment, past the rows of marijuana plants, and stopped outside of what he assumed was the master bedroom.

That door was locked too, so Jason reenacted his entrance to the apartment, kicking down the door and stepping into the room. The laptop that Tim had hacked into was sitting on a desk, and the screen flashed white before a smiley face popped up on it.

“Cute.” Jason said seriously.

The smiley face winked at him before disappearing.

Stephanie edged past him and walked into the master bathroom. Jason leaned against the desk and crossed his arms over his chest as he waited for Stephanie to drag their would-be drug dealers out. There was a brief sound of a struggle, followed by the pained grunt of someone who had just been kneed in the stomach. The first guy came tumbling out of the bathroom head over heels, he landed in a pile of limbs in front of Jason and tried to scrabble his way to the door.

Jason cut him off with a sharp whistle, waving one of his guns back and forth for good measure, “Don’t even think about it.”

The guys eyes went wide, but he didn’t move. Stephanie dragged the other one out of the bathroom by the collar of his shirt and tossed him down next to the one on the floor. She zip tied both their hands together, then secured them together at the ankle so that if they did try to run it would be the worlds most intense three-legged race.

“Who are we looking at?” Jason asked.

“The one on the right is Kyle Gamble, and the one of the left is Jeremy Tanner.” Tim said.

“Gamble? Like the name on the sign out front?” Stephanie asked.

“Yep.” Tim said, “His father is the owner of the company who’s been trying to sell the building for years. They’re both twenty-two years old and students at Gotham University.”

“Daddy couldn’t sell the building, so you decided to take it over and start growing pot, huh?” Jason leaned down and looked Kyle Gamble in the eyes.

Kyle’s eyes went wide, “Oh my god, please don’t tell my dad! We’re not hurting anyone, we just wanted to make some extra cash.”

“I’ve gotta say, I’m disappointed.” Jason cracked his knuckles, “I was ready to kick some ass tonight. I was hoping you guys would be some tough shit, bad guys mixing up even worse drugs that wouldn’t make me feel bad about throwing them around or breaking a few bones. But no, I get you two instead.”

Stephanie sighed, she pulled out her bo staff and extended it until the end thumped against the ground, “Right? I was itching for a good fight.”

“I mean, we could still knock ‘em around a bit.” Jason shrugged, “No one would know, and it’s not like anyone is here to stop us.”

“Hey! Hey!” Jordan’s lip was trembling, “No, you’re like the good guys! You only hurt people if they hurt someone else! Batman doesn’t just go around punching people because they grew a little pot!”

“You see any Batman here?” Jason asked Stephanie.

Stephanie shook her head, “Nope, just us.”

“Stop!” Kyle screamed, “Please don’t hurt us! We’ll do anything!”

“Anything?” Jason asked.

“Yes!” Kyle gasped, “Anything!”

Stephanie hummed, “I think we can work with that.”

They both let out a tension filled breath. Jason bit back a laugh, guys like that were so easy to work over.

“You seen anyone weird around here lately?” Jason asked.

“Weird?” Kyle shook his head, “What do you mean?”

“You tell me.” Jason said, “Last night, did you see anything that looked out of the ordinary?”

“We don’t really pay attention to stuff outside.” Jeremy’s voice stuttered.

Stephanie tapped the tip of her staff against the floor, “Think harder.”

“We…” Kyle trailed off, “We saw Batman!”

“Bingo.” Tim said in his ear, “Find out everything you can.”

“Yeah, it was weird.” Jeremy said, “We were outside smoking and he was just there. He was like, walking and not flying or whatever.”

“What else?” Jason asked, “Don’t leave anything out.”

“I don’t know! It was just weird!” Kyle said, “He was limping or something, it looked like he was hurt. We ran back into the building before he could see us.”

“Which way was he going?” Stephanie asked.

“Why?” Kyle asked.

Jason tapped Kyle’s shin with the toe of his boot, “Doesn’t matter. Answer the question.”

“I think he was going towards China Town.” Kyle said.

“You think?” Stephanie leaned over him.

“Yes!” Kyle groaned, “He was walking in that direction at least.”

“Anything else to add?” Jason asked Jeremy.

Jeremy shook his head, “No.”

Jason caught Stephanie’s eyes and nodded, “Ready?”

“Yep.” Stephanie said, she tapped her ear, “You get all that, Coeus?”

“Affirmative.” Tim answered, “Oracle and I are running scans of cameras in the radius between the building and the entrance to China Town.”

Jason turned and left the room, and Stephanie followed behind him.

“What about us?” Kyle yelled from the bedroom.

Jason shrugged, “There’s gotta be a pair of scissors around here that you two idiots can use to cut yourselves free.”

“Want me to alert the police?” Tim asked.

“Nah.” Jason said, “A little pot never hurt anyone, and there’s nothing around that they’re lacing it with. Let them sell their shitty weed to their college friends.”

“How progressive.” Stephanie smirked.

Jason tapped his fist against his chest twice, “I fully support the Gotham Goes Green campaign.”

“I bet you do.” Stephanie rolled her eyes.

“Batgirl, Hood.” Tim’s voice came over the comm, “There was a small brownout about five minutes away from your location last night. I overlooked it at first because it only lasted for less than a minute, but it’s in the direction of China Town.”

“So it’s probably connected.” Stephanie said.

“Possibly.” Tim said, “Oracle just sent you the location.”

The file from Oracle flashed across Jason’s HUD, it quickly downloaded the coordinates into his GPS. It wasn’t far, just a few minutes run across the rooftops. Wordlessly, Jason and Stephanie climbed the stairs back to the roof of the building. Jason reoriented himself and then took off running in the direction his GPS was pointing him. It became apparent that they were getting closer to China Town as they ran, and just as Jason was able to see the lights on the arch that led into the district, his GPS began beeping.

“The brownout was about two blocks wide, let’s split up and check everything out.” Jason said.

Stephanie nodded, “OK.”

Jason watched her as she jumped down from the roof and ran off into an alley. Jason scaled the fire escape closest to him and started in the opposite direction of Stephanie. There were at least two dozen alleyways in the block alone, Jason almost didn’t know where to start.

“Any hints?” Jason asked anyone who was listening.

Barbara’s voice came through the earpiece, “You’re closest to the epicenter of the brownout, it might mean you’re closer to any potential evidence.”

“The power failure started about seven hundred feet to the east.” Tim said.

Jason looked across the street, “Yet another alleyway.”

“Don’t forget to wear gloves.” Tim said.

 

“Funny.” Jason held his hand up in front of his face and extended his middle finger, he was sure Tim was watching through the camera in the helmet.

“Rude.” Tim huffed.

The streets were empty as Jason dashed across them. It was a quiet night, all things considered. Jason hadn’t heard a single gunshot or siren all night. The alley was dark, and Jason was thankful to his helmet for protecting him from what was no doubt a pungent smell of trash if the overflowing dumpster was any indication.

Jason pulled a flashlight out of his belt and clicked it on. The cone of light illuminated the front of the alley, and he swept it across the ground and over the walls as he walked further in. He didn’t get more than a few feet in before he saw what looked like a dried bloody footprint.

“You seeing this?” Jason asked.

“Yes.” Tim and Barbara replied in unison.

Jason moved the flashlight upwards, and that’s when the beam of light hit a pile of bloody clothing.

“Batgirl, you might wanna get over here.” Jason said.

“You find something?” Stephanie asked.

Jason picked up a broken chair leg from the ground and used it to poke at the pile of fabric, the nail on the end caught the edge of a piece of material and Jason saw a flash of a familiar symbol. He used the leg to lift it up, and then he was staring at a ripped section of the Bat symbol.

“Yeah.” Jason said.

The symbol was obviously a knock off, it wasn’t as intricate or finely filled in as Bruce’s, but it was similar enough to be mistaken at a faraway glance. It belonged to the imposter Batman, that he was sure of. Jason would probably bet that the bloody white undershirt that was sitting underneath the piece of the ripped uniform belonged to him too.

“Bag everything you see and get it back here.” Barbara said, “I’ll get the lab ready to run DNA analysis.”

“You have a lab?” Tim asked, his voice filled with wonder.

“Of course she has a lab.” Jason said, “It’s not as good as the one in the Bat Cave, but it’s still a lab.”

“I’ll remember you said that.” Barbara said, and then her voice clicked off the line.

Stephanie showed up behind him a few moments later, Jason handed her a bag and she started to fill it with anything that looked like it belonged to the imposter Batman. By the time they were done, they each had five separate bags of materials that possibly contained samples of the imposters DNA.

Stephanie looked down at the bags, “This is really sloppy for someone who went through all the trouble to blackout a part of the city just to hide himself.”

“Yeah.” Jason agreed, “Maybe Not-Batman is expendable to Hurt. Either way, we need to get these back to O.”

Stephanie nodded, tapping her hear, “Coeus, Hood and I are on our way in.”

“Got it.” Tim said, “Oracle has the lab ready for when you get here.”

“See you in a few.”

X

 

Tim was waiting on the balcony of the clocktower when Jason finally finished unbagging everything he and Stephanie had brought in for Barbara. He’d stripped off most of his armor, leaving him in baggy combat pants and a dark and tightfitting undershirt. Tim was leaning against the railing looking out at the city with a small smile on his face.

“Hey.” Jason said softly enough so that he didn’t startle Tim.

Tim looked over his shoulder, “What’s the word?”

“Babs said it’ll take a few hours for everything to be processed and then she’ll check it all against DNA profiles.” Jason said, “She should have a full report by the morning.”

Tim nodded, “So that’s it? The night is over?”

“You disappointed?” Jason came to a stop in front of him, lingering just close enough to touch, “You want me to throw the hood back on and go out to punch people so you can watch?”

Tim tipped his head to the side like he was considering it, “I do like the feeling of telling you what to do.”

“You? A control freak?” Jason held his hand over his heart in mock surprise.

Tim stared at him blankly, “OK, now I just want to see you get punched.”

Jason smirked, leaning in so that his breath ghosted over Tim’s face, “But then it would mess up my handsome face.”

Tim pushed himself up on his toes, his lips just barely brushing against Jason’s, “There are other places you can be punched.”

Jason winced in surprise when Tim jammed a bony knuckle into the soft skin in his side. Tim danced away to the side as Jason groaned, clutching his side. Tim’s laughter fell from the building down to the streets below, and Jason couldn’t even find it in himself to be annoyed when he noticed how hard Tim was smiling.

“You’ll pay for that.” Jason said with an empty threat.

“So there’s nothing we can do until tomorrow?” Tim asked before stretching his arms above his head and yawning.

“Nah.” Jason shook his head, “Dick and Damian are already on their way back home, they didn’t find out much from Arkham.”

“Damn.” Tim sighed, “Well, maybe we’ll hit the jackpot with the DNA.”

“Maybe.” Jason said, “Hopefully.”

“Will you call me in the morning when you find out?” Tim asked.

Jason frowned, “What?”

“It’s late.” Tim said, “I should probably head back home if I want to at least get a few hours of sleep.”

Jason sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, biting lightly on it as he worked up the nerve to say what he wanted to. He’d been thinking about it all night, and it was still more terrifying than the idea of going up against a gang of drug dealers was.

“Uh…” Jason trailed off.

Tim’s eyebrows raised slightly, “Jason?”

Jason groaned, rubbing the back of his head as he flicked his eyes to the ground, “You could stay with me tonight?”

“What?” Tim took a step forward.

“Yeah, I mean, you’d be there when Babs called and stuff. And you don’t have to sleep with me or anything-” Jason abruptly cut himself off when Tim’s eyes went wide, “I meant sleep in my bed! Not like, _with me_. Alfred can make you a room. We can just sleep. In the same house. If you want.”

Tim took another step forward, his face was terrifyingly unreadable “Do you want me to?”

“I wouldn’t mind.” Jason said as Tim got closer.

“You wouldn’t mind?” Tim repeated, smirking this time.

“I just got you, and I haven’t really gotten to be alone with you without all of this.” Jason waved his hands out to the side, hoping it conveyed what he meant.

Tim nodded, “OK.”

“You’ll stay?” Jason asked.

Tim huffed out a small laugh, “Yes, Jason. I’ll stay.”

“Cool.” Jason smirked.

Tim rolled his eyes, and then leaned forward to kiss him.

If every night ended like this, Jason could get used to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took forever lol i needed a break! 
> 
> hope you enjoyed it! i look forward to the comments!


	19. Bed

 

 

 

 

19

Bed

 

The gates of Wayne Manor opened slowly in front of the idling motorcycle. Tim tightened his grip on Jason’s waist and pulled himself closer, mostly just because he could. Jason tipped his head back a bit, the back of his helmet tapping against the front of Tim’s. The bike rumbled beneath him as Jason accelerated slightly, they were back on his civilian bike that had been stored somewhere in the clocktower rather than the one the Red Hood drove around the streets at night.

Tim looked over Jason’s shoulder at the dashboard of the bike, yawning when he realized it was a little after four in the morning. It was a good thing school was canceled for the day while the front lawn and gates were finishing up repairs from the damage caused by the Batmobile’s less than stellar parking job. Tim didn’t even want to think about how out of it he’d be at school after a night spent helping a team of vigilantes.

Actually, it explained why Jason always seemed to be in such a pissy mood at school.

The grounds of the mansion looked different at night. It was darker, more foreboding, it looked like a place that a family with jobs such as the Wayne’s would live. Every dark corner held a shadow, and Tim wondered what other secrets hid underneath every long stretch of perfectly manicured grass.

“When do I get to see the Batcave?” Tim asked.

Jason laughed, Tim could feel the rumble of it on Jason’s back above the rumble of the bike below, “You’re really stuck on that, huh?”

“You can’t tell me you have a hi-tech lair that’s in a literal cave and _not_ have me be stuck on it, Jason.” Tim deadpanned.

“Careful.” Jason sing-songed, “Don’t let Babs hear you talking like that, she’ll get jealous.”

Tim huffed, “I am perfectly capable of loving two secret hideouts equally.”

Jason guided the bike along the path to the manor, and they eventually came to a stop in front of the garage. The door began to raise itself without any input from Jason, and Jason gently guided the bike inside. The lights flickered on as soon as the bike crossed the threshold, and Jason guided it to its designated spot on autopilot.

After Jason killed the bikes engine and flipped down the kickstand, Tim took the opportunity to climb off the bike first. The rest of the garage was still dark except for the path they’d taken inside, and the dim halo of light over the parking space they were currently in. The softness of the light played against the darkness of Jason’s outfit. His helmet was still red, though less ostentatious than the one he wore out, and his jacket was a worn black leather. Tim’s borrowed jacket was a dusty brown color, and he had a suspicion it belonged to Barbara because there wasn’t anther jacket that wouldn’t swallow him whole.

Tim took a step back, then pulled his helmet off and held it in the crook of his elbow while he waited for Jason. Jason took a few extra seconds, Tim didn’t exactly know what kinds of codes he was punching into the console on the bike, but they were probably there for a reason.

Jason finally got off the bike, threw his gloves on a nearby table, and reached up to pull of his helmet. Tim tried to bite back a smile when he saw the state that Jason’s hair was in, but it was a losing battle from the start. Some of it was sticking up wildly on the sides from where the helmet had pulled at it, his bangs were pushed every way possible, and the white strands were matted to his forehead with sweat.

Tim idly wondered if this was what Jason looked like first thing when he woke up in the morning.

Jason caught him looking, “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.” Tim hummed, then rolled his eyes when Jason fixed him with a blank stare, “It’s just your hair.”

Jason’s eyes shot upward, straining slightly as if he’d be able to see his own hair if he tried hard enough, “You try wearing two different helmets for hours at a time and see how perfect your hair turns out, pretty boy.”

Tim cocked his head to the side, smirking, “You think I’m pretty?”

“I didn’t…” Jason stammered, “No!”

“So you don’t think I’m pretty?” Tim took another step forward.

“What? No, I mean, yes.” Jason looked flustered, his eyes were darting around like he was trying to find an escape route.

Maybe it was mean of Tim to mess with him like this after a night on patrol, but the way Jason’s cheeks flushed made it almost impossible not to. Tim reached out and ran a hand through Jason’s messy, damp hair, trying to fix it back into place. Jason, almost subconsciously, leaned into the touch. Tim’s fingers tangled through the slight curls, and then he pulled his hand back, his fingers lingering over the shock of white in Jason’s bangs.

 

 

“Do you dye this?” Tim asked, “I’ve been wondering.”

Jason’s body language changed subtly, but enough for Tim to notice. His shoulders had been slack before, like he was loosening up, but they went hard and rigid the second Tim asked the question. Tim’s forearm was close enough to Jason’s mouth that he felt the warm jet of air when Jason’s breath hitched.

“It’s just something that happened.” Jason said, “Don’t wanna talk about it.”

Tim gently pulled his hand back, “OK.”

Before either of them could say anything else, the door on the other end of the garage opened. Light flooded the space, illuminating both of them, and Tim could see Alfred’s silhouette in the doorway.

“Good evening, Master Jason.” Alfred said, “Master Dick called ahead to inform me that we’d have a guest, I’ve taken the liberty of turning down one of the guest rooms for Mister Drake.”

Jason nodded, turning towards the doorway, “Thanks, Alf.”

“Thank you, Alfred.” Tim said, following behind Jason, “Tim in fine, by the way. Mister Drake makes me feel like my father.”

Alfred smiled slightly as they got closer, “Certainly, Mister Tim.”

Tim followed Jason and Alfred though the same path he had the other day, and they eventually came out in the kitchen again. There were two bottles of water already out on one of the counters, and Alfred handed Jason a plate with a sandwich on it. Jason picked up a bottle of water, threw it in Tim’s direction, and took the other one for himself.

Jason was already halfway done with his sandwich when Alfred handed Tim a plate, “I wasn’t sure if you’d be hungry as well, but I took the liberty of preparing something light for you.”

Tim stared at the plate and felt a stab of guilt, he wasn’t hungry at all, but he didn’t want to waste food.

“If Tim doesn’t want it, I’ll take it.” Jason said.

Tim laughed, pushing the plate towards Jason, “Have at it.”

Jason smiled, then tore into Tim’s food.

Alfred sighed, “I know I’ve taught you better manners than that, Master Jason.”

“You know how hungry kicking ass makes me, Alf.” Jason said.

“You literally did not kick any ass tonight, Jason.” Tim pointed out.

“Interesting.” Alfred hummed, eyeing Jason.

“Damn.” Jason mumbled, “Sorry, Alf. Thank you for making this, and thank you for letting me have yours, Tim.”

“You’re very welcome, Master Jason.” Alfred nodded, satisfied.

“I can show you to your room now if you’d like.” Alfred said, turning towards Tim.

Oh,” Tim stared, but Jason cut him off.

“Take a breather, Alf.” Jason waved him away, “I’ll show Timmy to his room.”

Alfred arched an eyebrow, his eyes swept between both of them, and Tim suddenly felt _very_ seen. He just barely managed not to shy away from Alfred’s knowing eyes, and he hoped he wasn’t as pink as he felt.

“Very well.” Alfred said slowly, “I’ve put the eastern guest room together for Mister Tim.”

“Sweet.” Jason said.

Something chimed from down the hall, and Alfred turned away from both of them, “Master’s Dick and Damian have arrived down below, I’ll take my leave.”

God damn, Tim wanted to see the Batcave.

Tim hung back as Jason finished eating. Jason took both plates to the sink when he was done, washed them, and put them on the rack to dry before he turned to Tim with a smile on his face.

“Should I show you to the guest room?” Jason asked, waggling his eyebrows.

Tim rolled his eyes, but followed Jason out of the kitchen when he left. Jason led him down a few different hallways, and they eventually came to the same staircase Tim had taken downstairs the first time he’d visited the Manor.

“Is it just me, or did Alfred…”

Jason threw his head back and laughed as they went up the stairs, “Totally know that you’re not sleeping in the guest room and that we’re gonna spent the rest of the night making out in my bed? Totally.”

“I’m absolutely mortified.” Tim groaned, dragging both palms down his face, “I wanted Alfred to like me.”

“He likes you. He wouldn’t call you Tim if he didn’t, he’d passive aggressively call you Timothy or something.” Jason laughed, “Besides, this isn’t even in the top ten most embarrassing things Alfred has ever found out about me.”

“Really?” Tim asked.

Jason stopped just outside the door to his bedroom, “When I was twelve, Alf sat me down to have a conversation about the kind of risks I expose the manors security to by visiting seedy pornography sites without a proper firewall.”

“Jason!” Tim’s jaw fell open.

“What?” Jason laughed, “I was a kid who’d literally never had a computer before, how was I supposed to know that could happen?”

“God, I can picture it now.” Tim laughed.

Jason groaned, “You don’t know true mortification until you hear Alfred say, ‘Big Dicks Only dot com’ in his fucking accent.”

Tim tried to smother his laughter, but it wouldn’t stop, “I might actually need to stay in the guest room, I think I’m going to be laughing about this all night.”

Jason cleared his throat, stood up straight, and folded his hands in front of his stomach, his voice was a terrible imitation of Alfred’s accent when he spoke, “Mister Tim, please do be conscious of how loud you are when moaning, Master Damian’s room is right down the hall and his ears are young and impressionable.”

Tim stared at him, “Now I’m just going to sleep in the guest room because I can’t look at you anymore.”

“Don’t be like that, TimTam.” Jason smirked, poking Tim in the stomach.

Tim just rolled his eyes, but he still followed Jason into his room when he opened the door.

The room looked just like Tim remembered it, it was spacious, lived in, and comfortable. Jason’s bed was unmade, the silk sheets tangled with the heavy comforter on top of the bed. There were a few pieces of clothing scattered on the floor, including a pair of bright yellow boxer-briefs that Tim noticed Jason trying to kick under the bed to hide.

Tim trailed his fingers across the sturdy desk, and Jason must have caught him eyeing the stacks of books on either side.

“The stack on the left is what I’ve read, the right is what I want to read next.” Jason said, his voice was muffled as he pulled his shirt over his head.

It was probably the first time he’d gotten to see Jason like this. Sure, he’d certainly felt Jason’s body, but he hadn’t gotten a full view of it until now. There were more scars than he anticipated, dozens of small white lines that probably came from petty criminals with knives, burns, bullet wounds, and it was hard to ignore the larger ones that Jason didn’t want to talk about.

None of it made him any less breathtaking though.

“Enjoying the show?” Jason asked with a wink, then not so subtly flexed his biceps.

“It’s riveting.” Tim licked his lips exaggeratedly, “Anything in there that will fit me?”

“There better be, this closet’s as big as my fucking room.” Jason said before he disappeared through the door of the large closet.

Tim wandered across the room to the plush bench in front of the large window. It was the perfect size for someone to curl up in the nook and read, and the pillows that were strewn across it were soft to the touch. The grounds looked peaceful from up high, the window overlooked a blooming garden with a stone fountain in the middle of it.

There was a photo pinned into the wood of the opposite side of the nook. It was different than the ones Jason had framed, it was old polaroid with wrinkles and faded edges. A kid who looked too much like Jason to be anyone but him was pressing a kiss into the cheek of a smiling woman, her skin was pale, with wrinkles that looked more like they came from stress than age.

She was still beautiful though, and Jason’s smile looked brighter than any Tim had ever seen on his face.

“That’s my mom.” Jason’s voice came from across the room, startling Tim.

Tim jumped at the unexpected sound, “Sorry. Sorry. I didn’t mean to snoop.”

“It’s not snooping if it’s out in the open.” Jason sat down next to Tim, he recached out and traced his finger over top of the picture, “She died a few months after we took this, it’s probably the last picture of her sober before then.”

“She was beautiful.” Tim said softly.

Jason nodded, “I left some stuff for you to change into in the closet.”

“Thanks.” Tim said.

He stood up from the bench and walked across the room. He looked over his shoulder at Jason before he walked inside the closet, he was staring out the window.

Tim found the clothes Jason left for him on a bench inside the closet. A shirt that read East Gotham Middle School sat on top, and a pair of cutoff sweats were underneath it. Tim also noticed the pair of scissors setting on top of a chest of drawers a few feet away, and the scraps of material that matched the sweatpants exactly in the small trashcan by the door.

Tim undressed, folded the clothes he was wearing, and put on the clothes Jason left out for him. The shirt fit him perfectly, which was enough to annoy Tim, but the sweatpants were a little loose around the hips. It wasn’t terrible, at least they weren’t pooling around his feet.

Jason would probably like that though.

Jason was laying in bed when Tim stepped back into the room, he rolled over and clicked on the bedside lamp, and then hit a button on a remote next to the bed which turned the rest of the lights in the room off. Tim stared at the bed for a few seconds, a strange feeling of fear curling in his stomach.

He’d never slept in a bed with someone else before.

Tim must have had a look on his face, because Jason sat up in bed and looked at him, “Hey, you don’t have to sleep in here. You know that, right?”

“What?” Tim shook himself out of the slight stupor he was in.

“There really is a guest room made up somewhere, you can sleep in there if you want to.” Jason said, “I don’t want you to think you have to sleep in here with me.”

“I do.” Tim said, and he did.

“You sure?” Jason asked, his voice hesitant.

Tim nodded, “I wouldn’t do anything I didn’t actually want to. It’s just new.”

“New?” Jason asked.

Tim sighed, dragging a hand through his hair, “I’ve never shared a bed with someone before.”

“Ah.” Jason said, sounding like it suddenly dawned on him, “Don’t worry, I’ll tell you if you snore.”

“I don’t snore.” Tim scoffed.

Jason hummed, “I guess we’ll find out.”

Tim walked around to the other side of the bed, the covers were already pulled back, and he could feel the threat of sleep closing in behind him. Jason rolled over so he was laying on his side facing Tim, he propped his head up on his hand and smiled.

Jason’s smile eased some of the anxiety in his chest, so Tim lowered himself into the bed. Jason moved over slightly, not that it mattered since there was an ocean between them in the king bed. The slick sheets moved over Tim’s skin like thin veils of water, and even he couldn’t deny how good they felt.

“Damn.” Tim marveled, “These really do feel good.”

“Told you.” Jason said smugly, “You can judge the quality of a man’s sheets when you’ve only been unconscious in them.”

“You expect me to be unconscious in another man’s sheets a lot, Todd?” Tim asked slyly.

“Unconscious? With your track record? Yes.” Jason inched a bit closer, “In bed with another dude? I sure as shit hope not.”

“I’ll take it day by day then.” Tim said, rolling over onto his side to face Jason.

Jason was the first to make a move, he leaned forward and crossed the invisible line that separated his own territory in the bed from Tim’s. Tim took the invitation for what it was and moved closer, he stretched his arm across the bed and found Jason’s hand, their fingers twined together, and Jason pulled Tim closer so that the tips of their noses were touching. The sudden jolt of movement startled a laugh out of Tim, but Jason quickly cut the sound off with a kiss.

The tension in Tim’s body melted away the second Jason kissed him, he opened his mouth with a sigh, and Jason’s tongue darted inside. Tim untangled his fingers from Jason’s, he lightly dragged them up Jason’s back, rucking his shirt up in the process, and slid them into Jason’s hair. He felt Jason’s body shudder as Tim’s blunt fingernails scraped against his scalp, and Jason’s free hand toyed with the bottom hem of Tim’s shirt.

Tim’s breath hitched as Jason’s fingers found their way under his shirt, the tips just barely pressing into the skin above the band of his sweatpants. Jason’s fingers danced over the thin trail of hair there, before slowly sliding up. Jason’s fingers curled, the tips of his nails digging into the skin on Tim’s stomach. It startled a noise out of Tim, somewhere between a gasp and a whine.

Tim felt Jason’s fingers trace over his abs, slowly sliding between the ridges of muscle as he moved his hand upwards. He thought it was more than a little unfair, and it almost surprised him how much he wanted to do the same to Jason.

Thinking about touching another person was not something that Tim did often.

 “Jason.” Tim whispered.

Jason stopped, he pulled back his head and looked at Tim, “This OK?”

“So OK.” Tim said, though he couldn’t deny to himself that he was slightly freaking out inside.

Jason smiled, he leaned back in to kiss him, but Tim yawned before Jason could get the chance.

Jason pressed his face into Tim’s neck and groaned, “We should probably sleep.”

“Sleep. Yeah.” Tim said, chills running over his skin as Jason’s breath hit his neck, “Sleep is a thing that could happen.”

Jason pulled his hand out from under Tim’s shirt, the tips of his fingers sliding across Tim’s warm skin, and Tim felt equal parts relief and disappointment. Relief because Tim honestly had no idea what he was doing, and disappointment because Jason’s hand felt like it belonged there.

It was probably better overall that they slowed down.

The bed shifted as Jason moved, and Tim repositioned himself and his pillows, so he was more comfortable now that they weren’t basically on top of each other.

“Just a heads up, I’m a bit of an asshole in the morning.” Jason said, he rolled over onto his back, but his head was still turned to Tim.

“As opposed to any other time of the day?” Tim asked, deadpan.

“Laugh it up, smartass.” Jason rolled his eyes, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Tim nodded seriously, “Consider me warned.”

Jason laughed, shaking his head, “Goodnight, Tim.”

Tim smiled, moving just a bit closer to Jason, “Goodnight, Jason.”

 

X

 

It was still dark when Tim opened his eyes. He craned his neck over Jason’s shoulder and looked out the window, the moon was still high in the sky. Tim frowned when he notched the clock next to Jason’s side of the bed, he’d only been asleep for a little over an hour. A dull pain came from his stomach, and then a loud, gurgling sound that Tim was thankful Jason wasn’t awake to hear.

Apparently he should have eaten that sandwich that Alfred made him instead of giving it to Jason.

Jason was still asleep, snoring softly, his warm breath ticking Tim’s neck. They’d gotten closer to each other while they slept, Tim could feel Jason’s leg hooked over his own. One of Jason’s hands had stretched out and found itself next to Tim’s head, the tips of Jason’s fingers just barely pressing into Tim’s scalp.

The closeness was nice, and not something Tim ever expected. 

The dull pain of emptiness from his stomach was still present though, and Tim realized he hadn’t eaten anything since the breakfast Jason made him that morning.

 “Shit.” Tim whispered to himself.

There was no way he’d be able to ignore it and fall back to sleep, and he really didn’t feel like torturing himself by laying wide awake in an unfamiliar bed while dying of hunger. Which left him with only one option. He thought of waking Jason up, but Jason looked so peaceful, and he knew how much Jason needed to sleep, so he’d have to go at it alone.

Tim slowly sat up in the bed, trying his best not to disturb Jason. He gently unhooked his leg from Jason’s and swung himself around so that both of his feet were on the ground, then stood up. He lifted both arms over his head and stretched, working out the kinks in his neck, and then checked over his shoulder to make sure he hadn’t disturbed Jason.

Jason shifted slightly, his hand stretched out on the bed towards where Tim had been, then curled into a fist. Tim smiles softly, and just barely resisted leaning down to kiss Jason on the forehead. He padded across the floor to the door, opened it quietly, and slipped out into the hallway.

Wayne Manor was decidedly more imposing when covered in darkness.

The high arches of the hallways cast odd shadows across the floor, and the shadows from the twisting branches from the trees outside added to the feeling of a sort of gothic horror. The atmosphere was so eerie that Tim wouldn’t have been surprised in a ghost jumped out at him, terrified for sure, but not surprised.

He walked down the hallway, staying in the middle of the long running rug that stretched out across the middle of the hardwood floor. He passed by dozens of rooms, all with their doors closed, and part of Tim wondered if there was even furniture in those rooms. He’d grown up thinking the large home he’d lived in when he was younger was excessive, but it had nothing on Wayne Manor.

Tim eventually found the staircase, and from there it was easy enough to find the kitchen. The good thing about the Manor was that even though it was large, the layout wasn’t entirely confusing. The house was built with a purpose, with a kind of care that felt like whoever built it wanted to make sure it was livable. Even the corridors that seemed like they twisted on forever in random directions eventually led back to a point that let you find where you were going easily enough.

The kitchen was empty, though Tim half expected to find Alfred in it.

If navigating the manor was easy, finding his way around the kitchen was not. He was terrified of putting something in the wrong place, afraid he’d mess up the immaculate organization that had no doubt been done by Alfred himself. He settled on finding a glass for water first, his mouth was dry along with his empty stomach.

Three sets of cabinets later, Tim finally found a glass. He delicately pulled it out, he had no doubt the glass was made of crystal and years of growing up in the Drake household had ingrained a certain sense of care when it came to handling something like that.

Tim turned towards the sink, but startled when he heard a voice come behind him, “Drake.”

Tim turned to face the voice, and gasped when he found someone directly in front of him. The shock of it caused Tim’s grip on the glass to falter, and he watched as the glass slipped from his hand and fell rapidly towards the floor. He braced himself for the crash, waited for the gut wrenching feeling to set in, but it never came.

Damian was in front of him, he took a step backwards and held the glass up to the light that was pouring in from the moon outside, “Disappointing. There are no less than fifteen items within my reach that I could have killed you with and you would never have known until it was too late. We’ll have to work on your situational awareness and reflexes.”

“Huh?” Tim stared at Damian blankly, and then at the loaf of bread on the counter that Damian could apparently kill him with, “What are you doing, Damian?”

Damian stared at him, unblinking. His hair was slightly disheveled, and his eyes were still half-lidded like he’d just woken up. He was wearing a pair of shorts and a hoodie with the Superman symbol on it, the hoodie looked a size too big, and the long sleeves hung down just above his fingertips.

“I heard you shuffling around the Manor.” Damian said, “I was suspicious.”

“Suspicious?” Tim repeated, arching an eyebrow.

“I am suspicious of anyone in my home who I do not know. Todd’s trust in your affords you a certain measure of freedom, but I still do not know you.”

Tim rubbed the back of his head, “I’m not stealing trade secrets, Damian, I’m just hungry. I didn’t eat earlier.”

Damian clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, “Your first mistake, Drake. You never turn down food from Pennyworth when he offers it.”

Tim shrugged, “I figured Jason could use it more.”

“How did that work our for you?” Damian asked, “Todd is sleeping soundly in his bed, and you had to leave it because you did not eat.”

Tim felt his cheeks heat up, he stammered, “His bed? What? I’m in the guest room!”

“Where in your guest room?” Damian asked, arching an eyebrow.

Tim panicked, he couldn’t remember where Alfred said it was, so he pointed in a random direction hoping he’d get it right.

He didn’t.

Damian looked unimpressed, he raised his hand and extended a single finger, pushing Tim’s hand in the opposite direction, “As I was saying.”

“I…” Tim trailed off.

Damian rolled his eyes, “I do not care what, or who, Todd does in his free time. Relationships between men are no different than any other, and so long as Todd does not let it compromise our work than I have no quarrel.”

“Did you…did you just give us your blessing?” Tim asked, dumbfounded.

Damian scoffed, “Call it what you like, Drake.”

Tim was too dumbfounded to say anything, so he just stood there while Damian turned his back to him and walked out of the kitchen. Damian paused before leaving though, he lingered in the archway of the kitchen for a few more seconds before he spoke.

“My brother is happy, I have not seen him that way in a long time. If that changes, rest assured that I know where to find you.” Damian yawned, “Alfred keeps the good crunchy peanut butter in the back of the pantry behind a sliding wall tile because Richard has an unfortunate tendency to eat the entire jar in one sitting.”

And with that, Damian was gone.

“Oh.” Tim said, staring at the spot where Damian used to be.

It was the second shovel talk he’d gotten from a member of Jason’s family, and Tim was under no delusions that Damian could cut off all of Tim’s fingers and make him eat them if that was the punishment he decided fit the crime.

As odd as it was, it made him happy. It made Tim happy that Jason had people that cared about him enough to make thinly veiled threats in Jason’s honor.  

Once he processed the whole exchange with Damian, Tim set off to find the pantry. It was behind a door to the right of the kitchen, he opened it and found a small walk in closet filled with food. Tim followed Damian’s advice and walked to the back of the pantry, he ran his hand along the smooth tile in the back until he felt one that was made of a slightly different material than the rest. He tapped on it a few times with the tip of his index finger, and smiled when it sounded hollow.

Tim gently pressed the tile in, and then slid it to the side. Inside the small space was a single jar of crunchy peanut butter. Tim laughed to himself, shaking his head, and took the jar out of the hidden space, and walked back into then kitchen.

A few minutes later, Tim had a perfectly healthy peanut butter sandwich and a glass of milk in the crystal glass that Damian had saved from shattering on the floor. He downed it all quickly, then washed his dishes and cleaned up the kitchen. The last thing Tim wanted to do was upset Alfred.

Tim easily found his way back to Jason’s bedroom now that he had a general understanding of that half of the Manor. Jason was still asleep, he was on it back with one leg hanging off the side of the bed. His mouth was parted, and he looked like he was sleeping without a problem.

Tim slowly crawled back into the bed, and as if he sensed it, Jason immediately rolled over and threw his arm over Tim’s chest. Tim bit back a laugh, he didn’t make a move to free himself from Jason’s grasp, he laid his hand flat overtop of Jason’s and closed his eyes before quickly drifting off to sleep.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was a fun chapter to write, i hope you enjoy it! i look forward to the comments!


	20. Cave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> before we begin, if you haven't seen, khachalala blessed me with another drawing from a scene last chapter, i inserted it into the chapter yourself, but here's the  direct link to the [post](https://khachalala.tumblr.com/post/182347987947/im-dying-for-this-story-night-time-my-time-by) to show it some love! i'm always awed every time they surprise me with another piece of art, it's the biggest compliment to see my words bright to life, and it means so much to me it's crazy!

 

 

 

 

20

Cave

 

Jason woke with an unfamiliar pressure on his chest.

His eyes shifted back and forth behind closed lids, the sunlight that was shining in from the window was just out of reach. Jason yawned before anything else, and the weight on his chest moved along with it as it rose and fell. It took Jason a second to remember, and even then, it didn’t fully register in his brain until he opened his eyes and saw a tuft of dark hair resting on his chest.

“Holy shit.” Jason whispered to himself.

Tim was still asleep, and his head was resting on Jason’s chest.

Jason’s leg was hooked around the back of Tim’s, with his foot rested against Tim’s calf. Jason’s right arm was draped over Tim’s waist, and Tim’s shirt was pushed up just enough so that the pads of Jason’s fingers were pressed into Tim’s skin. Tim’s breathing was steady, Jason could feel the warmth of Tim’s breath as it hit the hollow of his throat.

Part of Jason thought last night had been a dream, a terrible, wonderful dream that he’d wake up from to find it didn’t actually happen. But it did happen, and Tim’s body tangled with him was all the proof that Jason needed.

Jason hesitated before he moved since he didn’t want to wake Tim, and knowing Tim, he needed all the sleep he could get. But Jason was greedy, and he wanted to take any opportunity he could to remind himself that this was real. He slowly lifted his hand away from Tim’s side, trailing his fingers up Tim’s back lightly. Tim shifted, pressing his face into Jason’s shirt. Jason smiled as he slid his fingers into Tim’s hair, and Tim moved again.

Tim mumbled, his eyes still closed, “No, not the tomatoes.”

“Tomatoes?” Jason laughed softly.

“I just planted them.” Tim mumbled again, then rolled off Jason’s chest and onto his side.

Jason shook his head and huffed out another quiet laugh as he looked at Tim’s back. Tim’s shoulders were loose, and the steady rise and fall told Jason that Tim was still asleep and dreaming.

Jason pushed himself out of the bed, stretching his arms over his head and groaning. He couldn’t resist leaning down and pressing a kiss to Tim’s shoulder before he made his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth quickly.

Tim was in the same position when Jason was finished, he left Tim in bed and walked to the door.

"Good luck with your tomatoes, Timbo.” Jason said softly.

Jason opened his door, and came face-to-face with Dick. Dick had his stupid trademark smile pasted on his face, he was leaning against the wall directly across from the door with one leg propped up on it.

“Morning, Jaybird!” Dick grinned, his eyes darted over Jason’s shoulder, giving him a perfect view of Tim sleeping in Jason’s bed.

Jason shut the door quickly, he glared at Dick, “Alf would cut that foot off if he saw it on the wall.”

Dick pushed himself off the wall, he gasped and clutched his chest dramatically, “Alfred would never, he loves me too much.”

“He loves that vintage wallpaper more.” Jason brushed past Dick and headed down the hallway.

Because Dick was relentless, Dick followed him, “So, how’d you sleep.”

“Like a baby.” Jason deadpanned, he stopped in the middle of the hall and turned on his heel to face Dick, “Can I help you with something?”

“Am I not allowed to talk to my little brother in the morning?” Dick asked, feigning ignorance.

“No, you’re not.” Jason rolled his eyes.

Dick held his hands up in surrender, frowning, “Sorry, sorry.”

Jason sighed, dragging a hand through his hair, “Ask.”

“What?” Dick innocently cocked his head to the side.

“Ask whatever it is that you want to ask me.” Jason folded his arms over his chest and waited.

Dick didn’t say anything, but Jason waited him out. He stared at Dick dead in the eyes, barely blinking, until Dick finally caved to the pressure like Jason knew that he would.

“So…” Dick trailed off, “Tim, huh?”

“Yes.” Jason said, “Tim is sleeping in my bed, and we made out last night before going to sleep.”

Dick’s eyes went wide, “Oh, that’s…nice.”

“Yep.” Jason said, popping the p, “Anything else?”

“How long have you and Tim been…sleeping together?” Dick winced, “Wait, that’s not what I meant!”

“Christ, you really are terrible at this, aren’t you?” Jason couldn’t help but laugh.

“Hey, at least you didn’t wake up the morning after your first date to Bruce asking you if you know how to use a condom over breakfast.” Dick shuddered, “I can’t eat Cheerios without thinking about it.”

Jason laughed again, shaking his head, “That’s Bruce, not exactly subtle.”

“Yeah.” Dick laughed, “Neither are you though.”

Jason paused, “What?”

Dick’s face softened, and his smirk wasn’t as sharp as Jason knew it could be, “Even if I didn’t totally just see Tim sprawled out in your bed, it’s pretty obvious that you’ve had a thing for him for a while.”

“Obvious?” Jason barked, “What the hell?”

Dick rolled his eyes, “Jay, you’re my little brother, I know you. The first time you talked about Tim you smiled, granted you were smiling while calling him an obnoxious little ass monkey who almost got himself killed, but you were still smiling. I can count on one hand the amount of times I’ve seen you smile that didn’t have to do with kicking ass or talking to Alfred about a book.”

Jason stared at him blankly, he really hadn’t given Dick that much credit.

“I don’t have a problem with it…” Dick trailed off, “If that’s why you didn’t want to tell me, I mean.”

“I…” Jason started, but Dick cut him off.

“Listen, Babs is like, the light of my life, and I’ve loved her forever, but there were times when we weren’t together.” Dick scuffed his heel against the rug, “And, you know, I can’t exactly say that I haven’t…known the pleasures of another man.”

Jason gasped, then doubled over out of sheer horror, “Oh my god, Dick!”

“What?” Dick cried, “It’s perfectly normal to experiment at that age!”

Jason was positive he was two seconds away from his brain starting to leak from his ears, “I don’t need to hear about you enjoying the _pleasures_ of _anyone_! Jesus fucking fuck!”

Dick groaned, he slapped both hands onto his face and dug his nails in as if he was about to claw his eyes out, “This is not how I wanted this conversation to go.”

“We’re going to forget it happened.” Jason said slowly.

Dick nodded, “Yeah. Sounds good.”

Jason backed away from Dick, not turning around until he was a good ten feet down the hallway. Once he finally did, he heard Dick mumble something to himself as he turned to walk back towards his bedroom.

Jason spent the rest of his walk down to the kitchen trying to figure out the gentlest way to ask Alfred if he had a tub of bleach big enough that would fit his head.

The kitchen was empty by the time Jason made it downstairs, the only evidence anyone besides Alfred had been inside that morning was an empty purple mug on the edge of the breakfast nook. Jason knew the mug was Damian’s favorite, which meant he was slinking around the Manor somewhere.

There was a fresh pot of coffee on the counter, Jason opened the cabinet closest to it and grabbed two mugs. He put the first mug inside the blast chiller under the freezer, and poured the second one halfway full of hot coffee.  Jason downed his cup of coffee while he waited for Tim’s mug to cool down, he pulled it out of the blast chiller after about a minute. The mug was frosty to the touch, but Jason added a few ice cubes to it just for good measure.

He poured the fresh coffee into the cold mug, and smiled in satisfaction when the ice cubes didn’t immediately melt because of the coldness of the mug. He added a bit of cream and sugar, a crude approximation of what he thought Tim would like in his coffee, and then made his way back upstairs to his room.

Tim was sitting up in bed when Jason opened the door, he rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, and let out a loud yawn. His eyes were glassy and unfocused for a moment, until he realized Jason was standing at the door.

“Oh.” Tim said, stifling another yawn, “What time is it?”

“A little after nine.” Jason said, leaning against the doorway.

“Wow.” Tim blinked at him, “That’s sleeping in for me.”

“I figured.” Jason smirked, he stepped into his room and closed the door behind himself.

Tim pushed the blankets off his legs as Jason walked across the room, he was sitting on the bed with his legs crossed by the time Jason reached him. Jason held out the mug, Tim took it from him, then blanched in surprise when he wrapped his fingers around it.

“It’s cold.” Tim said.

“Yep.” Jason nodded.

Tim took a sip, he let out a refreshing sigh, “You noticed.”

Jason angled his head so Tim could see his face, “Yep.”

Tim looked up at him, smiling, “I’d kiss you, but I think I should brush my teeth first.”

“There’s an unopened toothbrush on the counter in my bathroom.” Jason shook his head, “Alfred thinks of everything.”

Tim hummed, he sat the mug down on the bedside table before he got out of the bed, “Remind me to thank Alfred then.”

Tim walked lazily towards the bathroom. The sweats of Jason’s that he’d borrowed had ridden down a bit during the night, and they hung dangerously low on his hips now. Jason could see the sharp, delicate bones that jutted out from Tim’s hips, it was almost painful to tear his eyes away from them.

Jason sat down on the edge of the bed while he waited for Tim. He concentrated on the patterns in the carpet, and only looked up when he heard the bathroom door open again. Tim stood in the doorway, his hair was pushed to the side, less messy than it had been when he’d first woke up, and there were a few droplets of water on his lower lip.  

“How are the tomatoes?” Jason asked.

Tim cocked his head to the side, “What?”

“Nothing.” Jason smirked, he stood up from the edge of the bed and walked over to Tim, he wrapped his arms around Tim’s waist and smiled, “Good morning. Again.”

Tim didn’t answer, he just leaned forward and pressed his lips against Jason’s. It was weird tasting his toothpaste on Tim’s breath, but it wasn’t enough to get him to pull away from the kiss. Jason’s fingers tightened, slipping under the hem of Tim’s shirt as they pressed into his soft skin.

Jesus.

Jason could get used to this.

That thought alone terrified him.

Jason was pulled from his thoughts by a sound from his bedroom door. Three short, sharp knocks rang out, and Jason groaned when he recognized it as Damian’s signature announcement of his presence.

“I am entering.” Damian said, “Please tell me if I should avert my eyes.”

The door opened, Jason didn’t have time to step away from Tim before Damian looked directly at them. Jason’s fingers were still curled into Tim’s skin, and he was positive that there would be small crescent marks from where his fingernails pressed deeper into Tim’s soft skin.

“Good, you’re clothed.” Damian said, eyeing them, “Though I see I have interrupted something.”

Jason finally shook some sense into himself, he stepped away from Tim and picked a pillow up off his bed, he flung it at Damian’s head, “What the fuck? This is _my room_ , you little shit!”

Damian easily batted the pillow away with the back of his hand, “I knocked.”

“It’s still my room!” Jason growled.

“It is not like this is a secret, Todd.” Damian said, “I was already aware, Drake and I had a conversation about your relationship last night.”

Jason spun to face Tim, “Excuse me, what?”

“Don’t look at me!” Tim held both hands up, “I was just looking for food, then Damian crept up on me and not so subtly told me that he could kill me with a load of bread.”

Damian nodded, as if that was something he should be proud of, “You’d do well to remember that.”

Jason honestly hated this family sometimes.

“What do you want, Damian?” Jason asked, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Ah, yes.” Damian said, turning back to Jason, “Richard wanted me to inform you that he’d like to see both of you in the Cave as soon as possible.”

“Batcave?” Tim said, trying, and failing, to mask the excitement in his voice.

“Dress for training.” Damian said, he held up the folded pieces of clothing in his hand, “Drake, these will undoubtedly fit you better than the scraps Todd has you in.”

“I…what?” Tim looked down at himself self-consciously, “Who do those belong to?”

“Me.” Damian answered without missing a beat.

Tim groaned, “Oh, wonderful.”

Damian narrowed his eyes, “Those are new, I have not yet worn them, if that is what you are worried about. The concept of sharing clothes with me is unappealing, yet you and Todd have-”

Tim cut him off, “That’s not what I meant! It’s nothing, really. Thank you for the clothes, Damian.”

Damian’s eyes swept over them both one more time, he sat the clothes on Jason’s desk, then he turned on his heel to leave the room, “I will see you in the Cave.”

Damian’s footsteps grew quitter the further away from Jason’s room he got, when Jason couldn’t hear them anymore, he asked, “How close are you to running away and never looking back because of my psychotic family?”

Tim let out a laugh, he walked over to the desk and started going through the clothes Damian left him, “Two out of ten, maybe? They’re not as bad as you think, Damian’s threats to maim me notwithstanding.”

“Really?” Jason asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Yeah.” Tim shrugged, “I didn’t exactly come from a large family, so it’s nice to be around one.”

“Oh…” Jason said, he paused for a second, “Dick knows about us.”

“He does?” Tim asked.

Jason nodded, “He saw you in here, but he claims he already figured it out. I don’t know if I believe him, he was never as good at the detective stuff as he liked to pretend.”

“Does he care?” Tim asked hesitantly.

Jason shook his head, “Nah, he’s fine. The Wayne boys are a progressive bunch, apparently.”

“Oh.” Tim nodded, “That’s good.”

“Are you fine with them knowing?” Jason asked.

“Yes.” Tim smiled.

“Cool.” Jason said, unable to stop himself from smiling back.

Tim went though each item of clothing on the desk. Damian had given him a shirt with cutoff sleeves, a pair of tights, and gym shorts that didn’t look like they’d swallow Tim whole. Tim stared at the last item in the pile, he picked the white piece of equipment up and twisted it back and forth, grimacing.

“A cup? Really?” Tim stared at it, “Is this necessary?”

Jason grimaced as an early memory of training with Damian came flooding back to him, it was the first, and last, time he’d ever made a mistake of sparring with Damian without certain pieces of protective equipment.

“Yes.” Jason said instantly, “Just trust me.”

Tim looked at the cup and frowned, “God I hope this hasn’t been used before.”

 

X

 

Tim shifted nervously in front of the mirror in Jason’s bathroom.

The clothes did fit him better than the ones Jason had given him, but they were decidedly more in the family of active wear rather than comfort wear. The sweat resistant material of the tank top clung to his body, and the forest green color of the tights he had on under the simple black gym shorts made his legs stand out even more.

And that was saying nothing about the cup he was wearing.

Tim was dressed like someone who was about to go to the gym, not to the mythical Batcave that he’d heard so much about.

“You OK in there?” Jason asked from the other side of the door.

“Uh, yeah.” Tim said, shaking his head, “I’m coming.”

Tim opened the door to the bathroom and found Jason standing by the bedroom door, he’d apparently changed too. His outfit was close to Tim’s, though he wasn’t wearing a pair of gym shorts over his scarlet red tights. His biceps and the muscles of his thighs were on full display, and Tim was finding it hard to concentrate on anything but them.

“I liked you better in my clothes.” Jason said, frowning.

Tim licked his lips, before blinking rapidly to refocus, “Possessive, huh?”

“Did you expect anything different?” Jason shrugged.

“Honestly? No.” Tim laughed, “Your clothes are much more comfortable than Damian’s, if that’s any consolation.”

“Thank god for small victories.” Jason sarcastically rolled his eyes, “C’mon, you ready to see the Cave, Timmers?”

Tim barely, just barely, restrained himself from excitedly bouncing on the balls of his feet. He cleared his throat, squared his shoulders a bit, and nodded as seriously as he possibly could. His insides were screaming with excitement, but he didn’t want Jason to think it was only the excitement of the Cave that he was interested in.

It took a lot to excite Tim, to make him feel bone deep anticipation for something, but from everything he’d heard about the Cave, he was dying to see it. He wanted to see the technology, find out the secrets hidden in its walls, and he wanted to see the place that had a hand in raising Jason.

The Batcave was just as much a part of Jason as the Manor thy were standing in, and Tim wanted to get to know that part of him too. He’d seen the easy, relaxed way he moved about the Clocktower, when Jason was there it was like the things he was hiding were taken off his shoulders, and Tim liked seeing Jason like that.

He wasn’t dumb, he knew there were things Jason wasn’t telling him. Whatever they were, it was obvious that Jason wasn’t ready to tell him, and Tim could wait, but he also wanted to see Jason unburdened. Jason taking Tim into the Cave felt like Jason letting Tim into another part of his life, a part he felt safe in, and Tim was excited for that.

“Earth to Timmy.” Jason waved his palm in front of Tim’s face, “You in there? Do I need to call a doctor? Alfred is a trained trauma surgeon, he could probably figure it out if you need him.”

Tim blinked rapidly, shaking his head, “Sorry, just got lost in thought for a second.”

Jason eyed him intently for a second, but ended up shrugging before he reached out and wrapped his hand lightly around Tim’s wrist. Jason pulled him across the room, out the door, and into the hallway. Jason surprised him by leading him further down the hallway, away from the staircase that would have brought them to the lower level of the Manor.

“Shouldn’t we be going down?” Tim asked as Jason led him up another flight of stairs.

“One would think that, wouldn’t they?” Jason said with a cryptic smirk as he looked over his shoulder, “There are a few entrances to the Cave in the Manor, this one is my favorite.”

Tim followed Jason as he rounded the corner and led him down another long hallway. There was a set of double doors at the end of this one, they were big, sturdy, made of dark wood. Jason grabbed both handles of the door and turned, pushing them both open and revealing something close to an actual library in the middle of the Manor.

The room was large, probably the largest single room that Tim had seen in the manor. There were stacks of bookcases that lined the walls, a fireplace with an expensive rug spread in front of it, several overstuffed couches and chairs, a piano sat off to the side, and a heavy mahogany desk was at the far end of the room.

“Welcome to the study.” Jason said, spreading his arms out.

“Wow.” Tim’s eyes swept the bookcases, he already saw several copies of classic books that looked too old to be anything but original printings.

Jason trailed his fingers across a shelf of books as they walked by, “This used to be my favorite room in this entire place, still is in a way. I spent most of my time in here when I first moved in, I’ve probably gone through close to every book in here. Alf would have to drag me out kicking and screaming just to get me to take a shower.”

“I can picture that perfectly.” Tim laughed.

Jason looked over his shoulder and grinned, “What? Me in the shower?”

“Very funny.” Tim deadpanned, but he couldn’t technically deny it.

“I fell asleep on that couch more than my bed for a while.” Jason pointed to the worn leather sofa across from the fireplace, “Didn’t even know I did until I woke up in the morning covered with a blanket.”

“Alfred too?” Tim asked.

 “Sometimes. Other times I’d know it was Bruce, he…he did it differently than Alfred.” Jason took a deep breath, he continued on before Tim could say anything, “Anyway, let’s get you down there before Dickface comes looking for us.”

“OK.” Tim said, not pushing the subject of Bruce.

Jason stepped behind the desk, moving the leather chair behind it to the side. He trailed his hand over the top of the desk, then pressed his palm flat in the center of it. Nothing happened for a few seconds, but when Tim got closer, he could see a faint green light shining under Jason’s palm. The light flashed once, then disappeared when Jason pulled his hand back.

The grandfather clock behind Jason made a hissing sound, and then the entire front of the clock popped open. Jason turned around and grabbed the side, pulling it open like a door. Tim stared at it in wonder, he walked around to the back of the desk and stepped around Jason.

“An elevator?” Tim asked.

Jason nodded, he held his arm out towards the clock, “After you.”

The opening to the elevator was small, but once Tim ducked through the front of the clock, he found himself in a reasonably sized elevator. It could probably fit at least three of them, four if Damian crouched down a bit.

Tim stood off to the side as Jason got into the elevator. The door of the clock closed automatically once Jason was inside, and a panel of glowing buttons appeared as the black elevator door slid shut. Jason pressed the topmost button with his finger, then stood back as the elevator began its descent.

Jason lightly elbowed Tim in the side, “Watch this.”

Tim looked forward, slightly confused about what Jason wanted him to see. It all made sense a moment later though, because Tim realized that the elevator doors weren’t black, they were clear. The black wall in front of them faded away, replaced with an overhead view of the Batcave as they rode the elevator down into it.

The cave was massive, Tim really wouldn’t have gotten the scope of it had they not entered from the top. It sprawled out as far as Tim could see, there were multiple levels, a landing pad with different vehicles suspended above it, a dock with a boat, the Batmobile sat in the middle of a rotating plate on the second level, a long stretch of road disappeared into a black tunnel.

It was so much more than Tim ever could have imagined.

“Is that…a dinosaur?” Tim stared dumbly at the giant green t-rex, and the giant penny next to it.

“Don’t ask.” Jason laughed.

Tim’s brows drew together, “You can’t tell me to not ask about a _dinosaur_ , Jason.”

The elevator came to a stop on the second floor of the Cave, Jason stepped out first, “Ask Dick, he tells the stories about the trophies better than I do anyway.”

Tim marveled at the cave as he finally stepped foot inside. The way technology blended seamlessly with the actual geological formations of the cave was breathtaking, the sleek steel lines of tables disappeared into craggy rock formations, the polished floor reflected the stalactite’s hanging from the roof of the cave.

Jason pointed to the left, an area filled with long tables and various pieces of lab equipment that Tim had never touched before, “That’s where all the science shit happens.”

“The science shit?” Tim repeated.

Tim followed Jason down a set of stairs into the trophy room. Jason didn’t pause when they walked by the dinosaur, nor did he spare the giant penny a second glance. There were glass cases filled with all kinds of strange things, masks, swords, books, all of them must have meant something for a man like Bruce Wayne to have them on display.

Tim didn’t have to guess who the giant playing card suspended from the ceiling belonged to.

They cleared the trophy room area, and Tim paused in front of the wall filled with costumes. It reminded Tim of the display cases in the Clocktower, but with far more costumes. There were several incarnations of Batman’s suit, Dick’s Nightwing suit, Jason’s Red Hood armor, and a copy of the same Batgirl costume on display in the Clocktower.

There was also a line of Robin suits that looked like they were arranged in chronological order.

Dick, Jason, and then Damian’s Robin suits each had their own case. Tim pressed his hand against the one that held Jason’s, it was the same one he’d seen in the video of Batman and Robin in his apartment, and it was strange to see it in person. The size difference between Jason then and Jason now was staggering.

Each costume had a name plate under it, with the dates that each Robin was active, it reminded Tim of a tomb stone, “That’s morbid.”

Jason only went still for a second, but it was enough for Tim to catch, “Yeah, well, that’s Bruce. Losing a Robin is like a death in the family.”

“Nice of you to join us!” Dick waved from further down the cave.

“Yes, your punctuality leaves something to be desired.” Damian was sitting balanced on the back of a chair with his arms crossed over his chest.

Jason scoffed, “Save it.”

Dick was standing in front of an enormous computer. The console itself curved along the wall in the middle of the cave, and the screen rivaled any movie theatre he’d ever stepped foot in. The main chair was wide and comfortable looking, it was on a rolling track in front of the computer, with several others pulled off to the side.

“Holy shit.” Tim whispered.

Jason huffed out a laugh, “Yeah, thought you’d cream yourself over the Batcomputer.”

“I’m too in awe to roll my eyes over that name.” Tim said, staring at the computer.

Damian backflipped off the top of the chair as they got closer, he stood up straight once he landed, “You like the computer, Drake?”

“How could I not?” Tim asked.

“Yes, Father built an impeccable machine.” Damian nodded, his face was completely serious, “Do not touch it.”

“What Damian _means_ is the computer tracks the vital signs of anyone who uses it, you’re not registered so if you touch it, you’ll send the entire cave into a lockdown and it will take about twelve hours to get us out of here safely.” Dick said, smiling.

“That is not what I meant, Richard.” Damian said.

Dick turned to Damian, his smile still as bright as ever, “Yes, it is, Dami.”

Damian huffed, “I am going to sharpen my sword.”

“Have fun with that, ya fuckin’ Gremlin.” Jason muttered.

“I heard you, Todd.” Damian glared at him.

Jason ignored him.

“So, welcome to the Batcave.” Dick said, “What do you think?”

“It’s…overwhelming.” Tim said honestly.

“I think everyone fells that way when they first come in here.” Dick said.

“Not me.” Jason said, “I just thought about getting out of the city with all the money I could make from selling one thing that I stole.”

“And aren’t we all lucky that Bruce caught you trying to stuff that handheld computer down your pants, or else you wouldn’t be here with us today.” Dick grinned as he pulled Jason into a one-armed hug.

“Get off of me!” Jason growled, slapping at Dick’s arm with his hand.

Dick pushed Jason away as he released him, “Anyway, I’m glad to see you’re dressed, Tim.”

“Yeah…” Tim trailed off in confusion.

“Listen, Bruce wasn’t always happy when a new person joined this whole thing. As much as he liked to collect Robin’s, he hated having people put their lives at risk for his crusade. I’m not Bruce though, and I think I know you well enough by now to know that you’re not going to drop any of this regardless of how I feel.”

“I…” Dick shook his head as Tim started to speak.

“Jason cares about you,” Dick said, “and Barbara likes you. They’re two of the hardest people to impress on this planet. If you’re going to do this, I need to make sure you’re going to be safe.”

“I don’t want to put on a costume, Dick.” Tim said honestly, “I don’t want to jump from rooftop to rooftop like you guys.”

“Maybe so.” Dick said, “But getting involved with this, with this whole family, is inherently dangerous. I need to know that you can protect yourself if something goes wrong, say you’re at the Clocktower with Barbara, and someone attacks it. I know Babs can defend herself as well now as she could when she was Batgirl, but what about you?”

“I can fight.” Tim said, “Jason and Damian have both seen me do it.”

“There are 127 major combat styles, how many can you protect yourself against?” Dick asked, “You disarmed a brainwashed high school student with a gun, could you do the same with a trained assassin? What about a skilled ninja with a sword? What about a metahuman with claws for hands?”

Before Tim could respond, he was falling backwards onto the floor of the cave. Dick was standing over him, his hand extended with his palm facing outwards, a smile still on his face.

“What the fuck, Dick?” Jason yelled, running over to Tim.

The smile dropped from Dick’s face, “Damian was right, your situational awareness is lacking. You’ve got a big brain, but it’s not always engaged.”

Tim rubbed his hand against the dull ache in the center of his chest, “You…pushed me?”

“You should have seen it coming. Jason did, that’s why he moved to stop me, but he was too slow.” Dick held out his hand, Tim took it and let himself be pulled up, “You made the mistake of thinking I wouldn’t attack you because I wasn’t presenting myself as hostile, but you need to be ready for anything.”

“Fuck, Dick.” Jason glared at him, “I thought you were gonna throw him through some obstacle courses, not try to fucking kill him.”

“I pushed him, Jay. Stop being overdramatic.” Dick rolled his eyes, “I said I’m not Bruce, because Bruce would never have given Tim a chance to prove himself, and you know it. Bruce would take one look at Tim and turn him away, but I’m not going to do that.”

“You want me to prove myself?” Tim asked.

“Not quite.” Dick said, “I want to see what you can do so I’m at least comfortable leaving you alone if something goes wrong. I’m Batman now, it’s my job to make sure anyone who works with us is safe. I won’t have another injured kid on my conscience, I can’t.”

Dick’s eyes cut to Jason quickly, but he pulled them away before Jason noticed. Jason still looked angry, like he was close to throwing his own punch at Dick, and Tim didn’t want that to happen.

“OK.” Tim said.

“OK?” Dick asked.

Tim nodded, but, “What happens if I don’t pass your test?”

“Do you think you’re not going to pass?” Dick asked, cocking his head to the side.

Tim thought about it for a second, he took a deep breath, “No.”

Dick smiled, “Good. The training mats are over here.”

Dick walked towards the Batcomputer, then disappeared behind it.

Jason stopped Tim before he could follow Dick, “You don’t have to do this, Tim. You don’t need Dick’s approval to work with me or Babs. Babs wouldn’t make you jump through any of these hoops.”

“It’s fine, Jason.” Tim said, “It’s not like Dick is actually going to _hurt_ me. Besides, I think this is just as much for Dick himself as it is for me.”

Jason stared at him, his mouth was a thin line, and when he spoke it didn’t exactly look like he agreed, “Fine.”

“Thank you.” Tim said, he looked over his shoulder quickly to make sure no one was watching, and when it was clear, he gave Jason a quick kiss on the lips.

Jason’s surprise bought Tim enough time to slip away before he could change his mind and start protesting again.

Tim followed Dick around the back of the computer, and when he rounded the corner, he saw the training area. It was about the size of an indoor basketball court, and it was sectioned off into several types of zones. There was an area with gymnastics equipment, a weight room, cardio equipment, and a large padded mat in the middle. The rock wall to its left was filled with dozens of different weapons, swords, staves, knifes, batons, every type of weapon that Tim could think of that wasn’t a gun.

Dick was standing in the middle of the training mat, he had a long black baton in his hand that he was twisting around with his wrist. He was practiced with it, it moved like an extension of his body when he lashed out at invisible targets in the air. He moved too fast for Tim’s eyes to keep track of, and he suddenly felt a lot more worried about what was going to happen.

Dick smiled when he saw Tim approach, “I thought you might have run away!”

Tim laughed, “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“Alright then, a few ground rules before we start.” Dick looked at him seriously, “No lethal force, obviously. No attempts at removing any extremities, fingers included. We’ll try not to break any bones, but I can’t promise that it won’t happen if things get heated. You can use anything in this room to help you as long as you follow those rules. If you break any of them, you’re out for good. Acceptable?”

“Seeing as how I wasn’t planning on killing you or trying to cut your hand off, yeah.” Tim laughed.

“Wonderful, another smart ass is exactly what we need around here.” Dick rolled his eyes playfully, “Alright, Tim! Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to disarm me of my escrima stick.”

That was…a lot less intense than Tim thought it was going to be. He figured Dick would make him like, disarm a bomb while fighting him in hand-to-hand combat or something.

“That’s it?” Tim asked seriously.

Damian scoffed, “Oh Richard, I wish you would have let me do this instead.”

“Hush, Dami.” Dick said, he tossed the stick up in the air, then caught it before it hit the ground, he pointed it at Tim, “Don’t worry, it’s a padded training version so it shouldn’t hurt _too_ bad when I hit you with it.”

Jason sat down on the weight bench next to Damian, he started to nervously tap his foot as Tim cracked his neck from side-to-side. He shook out his arms, stretched as much as he could in a few seconds, then nodded to Dick.

“Ready when you are.”

Dick was moving before Tim could finish speaking. Tim barely had time to register Dick’s presence in front of him before all the wind was knocked out of his lungs. Tim looked down to the see the side of Dick’s escrima stick hit him in his stomach. Tim staggered back at the impact, gasping for air as he clutched his stomach.

“You’re gonna have to do better than that to impress me, Tim.” Dick said, he jumped backwards a few feet and started to circle Tim like a shark.

Tim’s head was still swimming, and Dick took the opportunity to come up behind him. He felt the tip of Dick’s foot press into the soft skin behind his knee, and he crumpled forward into the mat face first. Tim couldn’t see Dick, so he moved on instinct. His instinct told him that Dick would try to hit him again while he was down, so he should roll to the side.

He thought of rolling to the right, but wondered if Dick would be waiting for him because most people would naturally roll to the side they’re most dominate with. He could roll to the left, but what if Dick expected him to do that? Did Dick think highly enough of Tim to plan for him to move that way? Dick did say he had a big brain, so it was possible.

Whatever choice he made, Tim knew he had to make it soon.

Tim rocked his body to the left, but jerked his shoulder to the right at the last second. He heard the dull thump of Dick’s weapon hitting the mat, and he opened his eyes to see the escrima stick pressed into the mat in the rough area where Tim’s shoulder would have been if he’d rolled left.

Tim pushed himself up front the ground and put a few more feet of distance in between himself and Dick.

“Nice move.” Dick complimented him, “I expected you to roll left.”

Tim pushed his hair out of his face, breathing deeply, “I expected you to expect me to go left.”

“Interesting.” Dick hummed, moving closer to Tim.

Tim knew he needed a plan if he wanted to beat Dick. Dick wasn’t a brainwashed teenager, or a stupid thug with a gun, he was someone who was practiced at the art of combat, and Tim’s paltry blackbelt in Judo and essential mastery of Aikido wouldn’t be enough to win the fight on its own.

Maybe if he threw Dick off his game, if he started going on the offensive rather than the defensive. Tim started to inch closer to Dick as the circled each other. Tim didn’t look at Jason or Damian as he moved, he didn’t need any kind of distraction.

Dick was fast, but if Tim timed it correctly, he could probably evade most of his attacks. When Tim got close enough, Dick swiped at him with the escrima. Tim leaned back, just missing catching a hit to the face, and saw Dick pivot for an uppercut. Dick’s punch was fast, but Tim managed to block most of it with the palm of his hand, he used Dick’s momentum to try and throw him off balance, then kicked him in the stomach.

It was a clumsy kick, one that didn’t do much more than surprise Dick, but surprise was enough for Tim. He grabbed the stick with his left hand as hard as he could, then twisted his body so his back was to Dick, and the middle of the stick was resting on his shoulder while Tim still had a grip on it with his left hand.

Dick had a lot more weight on him, so Tim grabbed the stick with his right hand too. He yanked the stick forward as much as he could, shaking it to the left and right to try and throw Dick’s grip off, then used the momentum of his body to lean forward and pull Dick with him. A normal person probably would have lost their grip on the stick then, but not Dick. Tim ducked, he used every ounce of his strength coupled with the momentum of his body to haul Dick off his feet and over his shoulder.

Dick body flew through the air in an ark, but he still held onto the stick. Tim fell flat on his stomach as Dick’s body slammed into the mat, and then jolt of Dick’s impact caused Tim’s fingers to slip away from the stick.

“Dammit!” Tim hissed, he reached out to try and grab the stick again, but Dick jerked it away with lightning speed.

Dick was crouched on the ground now, and Tim scrambled to get away from him. Tim was halfway standing when Dick pounced on him like a tiger, tackling him back onto the mat.

“It was a nice try, I’ll give you that.” Dick said, a drop of sweat fell from his nose and onto Tim’s forehead, “But not good enough.”

Dick flipped the escrima stick in his hand and held up over Tim’s chest like a bar, pinning him to the mat. There was only one way out of the situation that Tim could find, and it was going to hurt him just as mush as it would hurt Dick.

Honestly, it would probably hurt Tim more than it hurt Dick anyway.

Tim took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and headbutted Dick. He hit him just off center of his nose, he _did_ promise to try not to break any bones.

Dick hissed in pain, and Tim’s own forehead throbbed in sympathy, but he had to push through it. He managed to loosen Dick’s hold enough to move his leg, he drove his knee into Dick’s stomach and kicked him away. Tim didn’t try to go for the escrima, he knew he wouldn’t make it in time.

Besides, he had another plan forming in his head.

“Fuck yeah!” Jason cheered from the sidelines, “Kick his ass, Tim!”

“Not done yet.” Tim grunted as he pushed himself up from the ground.

Dick was still recovering, so Tim took his opening to run to the wall of weapons. His eyes scanned the wall looking for something he could use, and just as he found it, he felt Dick tackle into him from behind.

“Going for the weapons already?” Dick asked, laughing in his ear.

Tim’s body slammed into the weapon rack, it shook against the wall, metal blades clanking against the rock behind it. Tim scrambled for something to use, his fingers wrapped around the hilt of a bamboo training sword, he ripped it off the wall and hit Dick in the face with the butt of the hilt.

“Interesting.” Tim heard Damian say.

Tim thought for a second that Damian was going to blow his big plan, but Damian didn’t elaborate any further.

Tim swung the sword at Dick in a sloppy sideways sweep, Dick easily blocked it with his escrima. Tim wasn’t exactly sure what he was going to do with the sword, he’d never used one, bamboo or otherwise. But at least it put a few extra feet of space between himself and Dick.

Dick swung his escrima again, Tim raised his sword to block the blow. The escrima slid off the side of the sword, and Tim tried to hit Dick’s knee by sweeping the sword lower. Dick moved away in time, and Tim began to back up towards the gymnastic equipment.

He was biding time now, swiping uselessly at Dick with his sword, hoping Dick didn’t realize what Tim was actually doing. He let it look like Dick was driving him back, like he was about to push Tim’s back up to a wall with nowhere to run.

That wouldn’t happen if Tim had his way.

Tim loosened his grip on the sword, enough so that the next time Dick hit it, the sword slipped from his hands.

“You had enough?” Dick asked, his brow was dripping with sweat, but he didn’t look as tired as Tim felt.

“Nope.” Tim said, he felt his back collide with the edge of the pommel horse.

It was exactly where Tim wanted to be.

Tim ducked underneath the pommel, using it as a barrier between himself and Dick.

Dick’s smirk turned into a full-on grin, “You’re in my house now.”

“Seriously?” Tim scoffed, “Who says that outside of a cheesy 90’s movie?”

Dick vaulted on top of the pommel, twisting his body around in a full circle as he tried to kick Tim. Tim expected as much, he moved backwards just in time. He ducked under the lowest of the two uneven bars, then ran under the higher one.

Dick, impressively still using one hand, vaulted off the pommel and grabbed the first uneven bar. He tucked his body tightly as he swung himself from the lower one to the higher one, and Tim took the opening to run back under both bars and position himself with his back to the pommel horse again.

“This is fun!” Dick laughed, “Thanks for this, Tim! I never get to do stuff like this as Batman.”

Which is exactly what Tim was counting on. He’d watched footage of Dick as Batman at the Clocktower, his style had changed since the first few times he went out as Batman. At first, Dick had been modifying his fighting style to fit Batman, but it looked too obviously out of place for anyone who was paying attention. Recently, Dick had been moving more like old footage of Bruce as Batman. Dick’s Batman was becoming less acrobatic and more of a brawler, and for someone like Dick who’d grown up in the circus, he had to miss it.

Dick also seemed like the type of guy who liked to show off every now and then, and Tim couldn’t think of a more perfect opportunity to get Dick to do that. It was impressive to watch him move so agilely, but it would also be his downfall.

Hopefully.

Tim ducked under the pommel again, he ran under the two hanging rings that would hopefully be his key to victory, and made a line for the balance beam. Dick had moved on from the uneven bars and back to the pommel, which meant Tim barely had any time to finish his plan. He pushed himself up on the beam, precariously balancing on it sideways, facing the pommel and the rings.

Jason and Damian had gotten closer to watch, and Jason groaned when Tim climbed onto the beam, “Oh god, don’t bust your face open just to beat Dickface.”

“Quiet, Todd!” Damian snapped.

“Thank you, Damian.” Tim huffed, he held his arms out to the side to try and steady himself while he waited for Dick to get into position.

Dick still had a firm grip on his escrima, he pushed himself up on top of the pommel and stood there, eyeing Tim, “Are you going to make me chase you around the entire cave?”

“Why?” Tim grinned, “Are you getting tired?”

Dick didn’t say anything, he jumped from the pommel and grabbed on of the rings with his free hand. Tim jumped at the same time as Dick, Dick reached the ring first, but that was what Tim wanted. As Tim flew through the air, he pulled a small knife that he’d taken from the weapon wall out from the back band of his pants. He grabbed the second ring with his free hand, and used the knife to cut the line of the one that Dick was hanging from. The knife was sharp, so the line snapped easily on the first swipe, and Dick let out a surprised yell as his body plummeted to the ground below.

Tim reached up and cut the line of his own ring, he threw the knife to the side as he fell to the ground, and he landed on his feet right next to Dick. Before Dick could get up, Tim tossed the ring onto the escrima like it was part of a carnival game. The ring circled around the body of the escrima before it slid down towards Dick’s hand, and Tim used the cut part of the line to jerk the ring forward, which was enough to rip it out of Dick’s hand.

The escrima slipped through the ring once it was out of Dick’s hand, it hit the mat, and rolled towards Tim. Tim quickly reached down and snatched the stick off the ground, tightly closing his fingers around it as he waited for Dick to stand.

“Holy shit!” Tim looked to his right to see Jason staring at him with wide eyes, “You actually fucking did it!”

Tim’s breathing was heavy, and his mouth was dry, “Did you think I couldn’t?”

Jason didn’t reply, he ran across the room and wrapped his arms around Tim. He squeezed tightly as he pulled Tim close, lifting him off the ground and spinning him in a circle. Jason’s laugh was deep, loud, and Tim felt it in his ribs as he was pressed against Jason’s chest.

“That was bad ass, Tim.” Jason said, smiling as he put him back on the ground.

“Glad you liked it.” Tim said, wiping the sweat off his brow, “Couldn’t give you something else to shit talk me about.”

Jason laughed again, “You don’t have to worry about getting me anything for my birthday or Christmas, the look on Dick’s face when he realized what was happening is the best present I’ve ever gotten.”

“Ill keep that in mind.” Tim took a deep breath, “You have any water?”

“Yeah.” Jason said, “I’ll be right back.”

Damian was standing right behind Jason when he stepped to the side, “Interesting tactic, Drake. I was wondering what you were going to do with the knife.”

“So you _did_ see me take it.” Tim said.

“Indeed.” Damian nodded, “Though it seems I was the only one who did, much to Richard’s chagrin.”

Tim looked at Dick, who was not so subtly frowning, “His situational awareness leaves much to be desired.”

Damian clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, “No one likes a smart ass, Drake.”

“I dunno, I think I do.” Jason said, handing Tim a bottle of water.

Tim uncapped the bottle and drank half of it before taking a breath. He wiped the back of his hand across his lips, then lightly nudged Jason with his shoulder. Jason nudged him back, then Dick walked over to them.

Tim handed Dick the escrima, “Does this mean I passed?”

Dick gave him a fond look, then shook his head with a sigh as he took the escrima back, “Man, Bruce would hate you.”

Tim flinched at that, but Jason put his hand on Tim’s shoulder and squeezed it.

“That’s a good thing, Tim.” Jason laughed.

“Oh.” Tim blinked.

“Bruce would hate you because you’d be too good for him to ignore.” Dick said, “It’s sort of a running theme with sidekicks.”

Tim felt a little bit of the tension leech from his shoulders, even more when Jason wrapped his arm around his shoulder and pulled him in for another hug, “C’mon, I’ll show you where the showers are.”

Tim arched an eyebrow, “Showers, huh?”

“Tim!” Jason’s eyes went wide, “Jesus, there are cameras everywhere in here!”

Damian sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I really wish you would have let me fight him, Richard.”

“I wanted to test him, not beat him into submission, Dami.” Dick flicked Damian on the back of his head.

“I will remind you that you said that once we are forced to share proximity with the both of them for an extended period of time.” Damian huffed, turning to walk away.

“Tim, be quick!” Dick called out, “Babs is on her way with the info from the DNA sample, she said we all need to hear it.”

Tim nodded, “OK.”

Jason led him down a short hallway, the pushed a door open that led into a clean white locker room. Each locker had a name on it, and the one next to Jason’s was blank, empty inside too.

“I’ll have Alf get a nameplate for you.” Jason said, angling his head towards the locker, “Welcome to the team, Tim.”

Tim smiled, he took a moment to relish in the warm feelings those words stirred inside of him, then kissed Jason before walking towards the door that led to the showers.

“Save me a seat.” Tim said over his shoulder as he opened the door.

Jason nodded, “You bet.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed! i look forward to the comments! 
> 
> i.....did not intend for tim to beat dick in a way similar to how his parents died, and only realized the similarities when i was editing so we're just going to pretend it wasn't super dark and that it didn't bring up any trauma for dick! 
> 
> lol


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